Warrior Class
by Ozzallos
Summary: He hadn't asked for the fight with Ryoga. He hadn't asked for the fight with Herb. Or Kumon Ryu. Or even Saffron. He hadn't asked for this one either, but she would damn sure finish it no matter what the cost. Warhammer40k/Ranma!chan
1. Chapter 1

**Warrior Class  
**_By Ozzallos_

* * *

**I.**

**R**anma Saotome, heir to the Musabetsu Kakutō Ryū had never been one for negotiations.

He was a martial artist after all, and his idea of negotiations was an open palmed strike or swift kick in the ass depending on which combination or technique was favored at the time. Negotiations were certainly not a tent full of people bickering on the fairness of certain terms and conditions over the finer points of a peace treaty that seemed just as likely to collapse under the more passionate entreaties then actually stand the test of time.

"The Phoenix will not withdraw from the Jusenkyo Highlands and that is final!"

His gaze flicked over to the old man across the space with a mental sigh. '_Old's' an understatement_,' Ranma revised mentally as he watched the amalgam of wrinkled flesh and feathers thump his fist down upon their mutual round table. How the appendage was able to withstand the solid thunk of the sturdy hard wood surface without snapping was beyond him and he all but tuned the Phoenix Ambassador out as the topic of boarders was revisited yet again. Behind him stood a woman clad in light pastel pink leotard cradling a small child in her arms; looking none too happy about it or the direction of the negotiations.

Ranma smirked slightly at Kiima's misfortune; his attention wandering from the bird woman to the two guards flanking her. Koruma and Masala stood by attempting to look menacing in spite of the fact that they still had the bruises from Mousse and Ryoga's beat down; and therein lay the crux of the problem facing the negotiations.

Their faction had beat the Phoenix soundly.

"The Phoenix used the Jusenkyo Highlands in order to stage an attack on our own Loresman." The pigtailed teen returned his attention to Cologne, who replied in a patient, if bored tone from the perch of her gnarled staff. "An offense normally punishable by death according to our laws."

"The Phoenix do not recognize your laws, _Amazon_."

_'Yeah, see how well that one works out for you,' _Ranma chuckled silently at the wrinkled ambassador's rebuttal and waited for Cologne's reply.

"Then perhaps we shall remove you from them by force," The old woman shrugged as if she cared little about potentially turning an isolated conflict into a full blown war. The Phoenix Elder sputtered his indignation, though Cologne simply overrode him calmly. "I think even the Musk would turn a blind eye after your blatant desecration of the valley."

_'Told ya so_,' Ranma quipped from the privacy of his thoughts as the Phoenix's sputtering died off with a horrified look.

"That would mean war, Elder." The old man warned, eyeing the woman with a narrow gaze that would have carried more weight if the robed Phoenix hadn't looked so frail to begin with.

"A war you started the moment you sought out the Guide and his Daughter." Cologne pointed out in that same bored tone. "By all rights it would be well within my prerogative to assemble the tribes, scour the Phoenix from the Highlands and lay siege to your damnable mountain."

The Elder Phoenix was posed to rebuke his counterpart when Kiima stepped forward to take over. She handed the baby off to the old man and took her place to stand at the table. The woman's slitted eyes flicked over to Ranma for a split second before turning her full attention on Cologne. "We will not be threatened, Elder. Even so, I'm sure we can come to a mutually reassuring arrangement."

The eye contact hadn't gone unnoticed and now Ranma waited for the other shoe to drop as the old Amazon woman two seats down from him merely nodded. "Such as?"

"A simple exchange," Kiima gestured disarmingly. "We will forfeit the highlands-"

"But Captain-_ACK!_" The old man sputtered, only to be smacked by Kiima's talon'd hand. The old man rubbed the his bald head profusely as the white haired woman favored him with a glare, then continued in a reasonable tone.

"The Phoenix will forfeit the Jusenkyo Highlands in the interest that it remains neutral grounds. This does, of course, represent a reduction in the defensive boarders around our kingdom and we would ask for reparations in return. Insurance against any Amazonian ambitions, as it were."

Cologne awaited the terms with a half lidded gaze. "Such as?"

"We would consider the Gekkaja as suitable insurance." Kiima replied easily, motioning in Ranma's direction. All eyes turned on the martial artist, who had allowed the Kinjakan's counterpart to lean haphazardly against his section of the table for the last two hours of mind-numbingly boring negotiations. The boy eyed the assembled crowd staring expectantly at him while he in turn looked at Cologne with a shrug that indicated he didn't care one way or the other.

At least until Kiima opened her mouth again.

"It would be in your _best interest _to accept this offer, Saotome-san." Kiima offered in a deceptively light tone that spoke of subtle threat. Outwardly, there was no change in the martial artist as he gripped the Gekkaja. Inwardly, the outcome that almost was visited his mind's eye and his heart hardened.

"Ya mean this staff?" He questioned rhetorically, pushing up from the table for the first time while taking the half moon staff up with him. Kiima nodded with manufactured patience and the martial artist stepped away from his seat, past the Amazon guards in attendance to walk over to the Phoenix delegations table. He gave it a showy twirl while doing so and Kiima's guards shifted nervously; their hands floating to the hilts of their weapons.

"Ranma...?" Cologne asked, now completely unsure of what the boy had in mind as he approached their table. He hadn't spoken at all through the proceedings and even looked like he had nodded off several times. But now what? Now that they knew what Phoenix wanted, they could leverage-

**_THwaCK!_**

The half moon blade came down in a blur, splitting their table in half before embedding itself in the very earth at Kiima's feet, causing the woman to stumble back in shock. Her green haired bodyguard stabilized the stumble and when she looked back up, found the black haired martial artist's cold blue-gray eyes burrowing into hers.

"How about this," Ranma's left hand flexed with anticipation around the staff's shaft as he offered a counter proposal. His tone was even and cold. "I keep the staff. You roll on out of the Highlands. I don't pay a visit and gut your goddamn mountain."

Kiima's mouth opened up but words failed to come out. After a moment of staring down the Phoenix woman, Ranma pulled the staff's edge from the hardened soil, leaving and ugly, frost bitten gouge. "And if ya say 'please' nice enough I might even let ya have it back so the kid can grow up again."

With that, he turned on the ball of his foot and left the delegation behind for the tent's exit.

Half an hour later found Ranma on a cliff side staring out over the valley of Jyusenkyo as roiling dark gray clouds took turns blotting out the sunlight. While he was never one to opine on the beauty of nature, he had to admit the rays of sunlight streaking down and refracting off the glittering lake Jyusenkyo had become was rather spectacular.

_'Yeah, too bad it's still Jyusenkyo,' _another portion of his mind not distracted by the beauty of the scene thought with bitter humor. Sheets of gray rain could be seen cascading down along the ridge-line several mountain tops away and that same portion of his intellect wondered how long it would be before it descended upon their location as well.

"Well that was the most fun I've had in years," A voice crackled sarcastically behind him. Its sage feminine tone assured the martial artist that it could only be one person and thus didn't even bother to turn around, let alone get up. The light tapping of a walking stick on rock halted beside him, confirming the woman's identity beyond any shadow of a doubt. The green robed elder admired the same sight from Ranma's cliff side vantage point for a silent minute before continuing her thoughts. "If I have to sit in on another one of those negotiations, however, I fear it will be the end of me."

"Killed me more than a couple times," Ranma chuckled back, remembering how many times he had been jerked back awake by his head lolling off to the left or right.

"Regardless, the deed is done." Cologne confirmed. Ranma glanced up at her, awaiting the final outcome of the meeting. "The Phoenix have chosen to withdraw from the highlands. They would request, however, your presence when Saffron's time comes again."

"If he's not a snot nose little brat, I'll think about it." Ranma sniffed, taking one of the keys to the child's ascension in hand. He rocked back up to his full height, using the Gekkaja's silvered length as a make shift walking stick.

"A thorn in our side for many generations," Cologne nodded sympathetically. "One less, hopefully."

"Ya got others?" The martial artist cast an teasing look at the old woman. "I just can't see why."

"Touché son-in-law," The old woman acknowledged and hopped away from the ledge, the tip of her cane ticking against the rock. Ranma followed with his own staff as she glanced back with a smirk. "But don't tell me you haven't enjoyed the attentions of so many women."

"When they aren't tryin' ta kill me," Ranma muttered but didn't pursue the point in fear of digging himself deeper. Instead, he decided to follow up on the original topic._ 'Hell, might even prove useful ta know_,' he decided and asked the old woman leading him back to the main trail. "What other thorns ya worried about, anyway?"

"The Communist would be the next biggest threat outside this valley," Cologne replied conversationally as she hopped along. "We would prefer to remain unnoticed and regularly take steps to ensure the status quo."

"Steps?"

"Infiltration. Bribes. Magic. Convenient memory loss here and there." She explained. The pair rounded an outcropping of rock, bringing the tent and several attending Amazonian battle maidens into view. The Phoenix had apparently all gone home. The pigtailed teen was just about to ask another question when a cold droplet dabbed his nose.

"Almost went the day without changin' too," He groused aloud, but found it harder to insert any meaningful resentment into the statement. Cologne merely chuckled with the comment as her gray mane billowed in the crosswind.

"And just who are you trying to convince, Son-in-law?." The question held an edge of rhetorical mirth and Ranma's silence prompted her to continue even as the tiny rain droplets gained in density. "In any event, it will make tonight's festivities easier on you."

"And just how's that?" Ranma asked with skepticism, his eyebrow arched. The droplets had staying power now and were now creating tiny spots on the blue of his silk shirt. A glance up at the boiling gray clouds above indicated it wouldn't be long now.

"How many women in our village do you think would jump at the chance to challenge the Slayer of Saffron for his hand in marriage, hmmm?" Cologne stopped her forward progress, eyeing the martial artist with no small measure of mirth. Ranma too stopped in his tracks with the sudden realization, his eyes widening. "Likewise, my great granddaughter's claim is only valid until the next woman challenges her. Losing to you is the proverbial foot in that door."

A peal of thunder accompanied the advisement, filling Ranma with an ominous foreboding as the rain began to patter around him in earnest, wetting his hair while he in turn imagined the Joketsuzoku celebration turning into an all out melee as one Amazon battled another for his hand in marriage. The martial artist realized it all sounded epically conceited, but damned if it wasn't a very real possibility in his mind. Ranma nodded his suddenly willing agreement. "I'm thinkin' girl's good right about now."

"I knew you would see it my way," Cologne snickered and continued hopping alongside her charge. Another gust of wind sent her green robe rippling, carrying with it enough drizzle to finally trigger Ranma's curse. The old woman barely noted the change as the boy next to her melted upon himself into a form only marginally taller than she was on her cane. The newly conjured redhead wiped a droplet out of her eye while the Elder herself took stock of the weather. "It will slacken once we reach the lower elevations. Should it persist, the forest canopy will protect us from the worst of it."

"Sounds good to me," Ranma nodded, eyeing the sky as if it had gone out of its way to trigger her curse on purpose.

"Then come; celebration awaits." She nodded, the smirk still plain on her face. The retinue of Amazonian women took up station around them; Four within their immediate proximity, two in advance and two trailing in their wake. Several males scurried around the site of negotiations even as their party took to the path, disassembling the main negotiations tent as the women continued on. Ranma balanced the staff over her left shoulder while Cologne hopped along beside her. One of the warriors off Ranma's left flank- Du Xiu if the martial artist recalled the pink haired woman's name correctly -shouted a something in mandarin and one of the woman on point started into a spring taking off ahead and out of sight around the curvature of the downward sloping path.

"So, Son-in-law, what are your thoughts of the future?" The old woman continued hopping along, glancing over to the martial artist in idle conversation. The martial artist threw her a searching look, but shrugged.

"How the hell should I know?" Ranma wondered aloud, hardly sure of the answer herself. "If it ain't one thing, it's another. A rival here, a kidnappin' there. Fiancées droppin from the sky, y'know?"

"Indeed," Cologne acknowledged with the slightest trace of humor. "Interesting times seem to follow you like Mousse follows Shampoo."

"Ya mean all incessant and annoying like?" Ranma chuckled at the visual the Elder's words had created, but ultimately found herself nodding. "Too much crap, not enough time." She paused, eyeing the elder warily. "This don't have something to do with Shampoo, does it?"

"My, how suspicious you are, son-in-law." The Elder favored her charge with a wrinkled smile. "Perhaps not unwarranted, however."

Ranma maintained her staring. "Well?"

Cologne cackled. "No, it does not. My curiosity is a... _personal _interest."

The redhead held her study for another moment before relaxing once more for lack of an obvious conversational threat. "I guess. Doesn't change my answer though. Still got a lot on my plate."

"Of course," Cologne nodded sympathetically as she tapped alongside the martial artist. "Then what if I offered you a way to lessen the helpings on your plate?"

Ranma's walk slowed as he regarded the gray haired elder suspiciously. "And just how would ya do that?"

"Before your return to Tokyo we will talk," The woman offered easily. "Speaking of which, what are your plans for the Gekkaja?"

"Other than carry it around all night?" Ranma sniffed and the elder nodded, as if she had expected the answer.

"Perhaps remanding it to an honor guard would be for the best," Cologne advised. "Legendary artifacts and large quantities of mead tend not to mix well during celebrations such as these."

"Ah, right," The martial artist eyed the elder skeptically, wondering just what the aforementioned celebrations would consist of. Still a celebration was a celebration. In her honor so less.

That didn't sound half bad.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**  
I've had this on ice for a while in various build states, so I figure why not release some of it. I'm not huge into the endless cesspool of meaningless violence that is WH40k by and large, so I'm doing this my way- A cesspool of violence _with_ meaning ;)

**A Challenge is Fine, Too;** _I normally don't respond to challenges but there are occasionally exceptions to the rule. here? I was bribed. By **Alamandorious** specifically, so if you want somebody to take the pitchforks and torches to any one person, he's the one :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Warrior Class  
**_By Ozzallos_

**II.**

"**O**h God."

These were the first words out of Ranma Saotome's mouth as her eyes cracked open, admitting blinding needles of sunlight to stab at her eyeballs as consciousness slowly found its way to the forefront of her brain. Beyond the pain of her overwhelmed eyeballs was more pain, this batch in the form of a pounding headache beating at her brain like a Taiko drum demanding attention.

As the elder had mentioned, the celebration hadn't been half bad. It was mainly comprised of dancing around bonfires, back slapping, ritual matches and alcohol. Lots and _lots_of alcohol. The honeyed mead that the Amazons had insisted on imbibing took no prisoners and none of their number had escaped unscathed, as evidenced by the rusty spike of pain trying to drive its way through the redhead's eyeballs. It was such a distraction that she almost didn't notice Akane Tendo on top of her as she pushed up, her own body apparently having served as the Tendo's futon at some point last night.

Ranma froze momentarily but was unable to form the customary blush at their mutually compromising position, lacking sufficient empathy to care in the face of the blossoming hangover. Instead, the groggy redhead pulled her hand from the girl's cotton clad breast with barely a thought to her own self preservation... not that there would be much the fiancée could do to add to the redhead's pain. Akane Tendo snored like a buzz-saw and the scent of fruity alcohol decayed by the night's stagnation wafted around the martial artist, prompting her to redouble her efforts to pull away. Ranma shluffed a tangled arm away from her person and stumbled to her feet, squinting at her surroundings.

The room was more or less the way she remembered it; that is to say the last time she was actually conscious. A table was upturned and sitting on its side near the center, though pitchers of ale were studiously arranged around it, apparently having been spared a similar fate. The chairs were likewise scattered across the room, one having taken its structural damage limit. As if to assure her that no shenanigans had occurred with Akane in lieu of actual memory, Ryoga laid sprawled out on the floor in one of the corners. An Amazon with a short crop of teal hair lay curled around his left leg, causing the Saotome brief pause as she considered the sight. After a brief moment, she simply shook her head and stumbled for the door... and hopefully some form of hot bath.

Ranma slid the room door open, bathing herself in yet more of the blinding glare of natural light while prompting a groan from somebody still in the room as she stumbled out. Another Amazon, this one quite sober and wearing full ceremonial silks snapped to attention just outside their small hut, her hand falling to her sword... and if Ranma didn't know any better, the slightest hint of a knowing smile on her face. Instead of addressing it, Ranma merely cast a bleary eyed stare at her.

"Bath."

"Village square, turn right, Honored Warrior." The smile disappeared from the woman's face; any trace of her playful demeanor gone now as she outlined Ranma's path in broken Japanese. "Second building blue. Have steam come out."

Ranma barely nodded and turned down the cobblestone street where the occasional male was found bearing food or linen along her route. Occasionally she would see another Amazon female, but they appeared to be in a similar state as to herself: Red eyes, barely coordinated movements and all but dead to the world. The redhead suspected if she got closer to any one of them they too would reek of alcohol, but was content to instead receive the barest of respectful nods as she passed. Ranma turned at the village square which seemed to be slightly more alive with sober activity but paid it little mind as she trudged toward her destination, eventually finding the blue building with steam pouring from various vents and piping. The light smell of sulfur drifted to her nose, all but assuring her that it was a naturally fed bath house and just the thing to wash the previous night of revelry away.

There was just one itsy-bitsy problem.

This particular bathhouse was quite obviously the female side as evidence by the comings and goings of minimally clad Amazon women ducking in and out. Across the street was a ruddy gray structure that also gouted steam where the males conducted their business. Ranma frowned, eyeing the alternative with an increasing amount of disdain while realizing that no good could possibly come out of what she was about to step into: Wash with the effeminate guys or bath with nude Amazon women warriors. Principles and pride clashed briefly in an attempt to resolve the dilemma before pride called ego for reinforcements, further muddying the waters.

_'Girlie men or psycho nude amazons,'_ The redhead all but cried at her choices from within the confines of her mind, knowing that one or the other would be the death of her in some way, shape or form. '_Because their ain't no way in hell I'm gonna-'_

"Airen look how Shampoo feel," A presence sidled up along side of her with a weary sigh, though Ranma didn't need the quick glance to tell her that Shampoo had joined her company. Surprisingly, no glomp of any sort followed as towel swathed girl fell in step along side her, nor did her voice sound like it had the energy. "Have same idea; wash party off."

While the mid length towel wrapped around the Amazon's curvy body showed enough skin to be scandalous in any other setting, Ranma couldn't help but to notice Shampoo hadn't fared any better than she had. Her self-proclaimed fiancée's normally luminescent purple hair was lopsided and frayed. Bloodshot eyes accompanied her visage and the martial artist was sure that the only reason the girl didn't reek of alcohol was because she had already discard her clothing.

"And stink too," Shampoo added with a sniff, as if to read her very thoughts. This time her arm looped around Ranma's and began to pull her toward the entrance with more purpose than Ranma's step original contained, deciding her fate by default. "Come-come. We get cleaned off."

On any other day Ranma might have protested more. On any other day, she might have balked that she was a guy and simply went to hunt down a source of warm water herself. On any other day, there weren't little jackhammers mining her brain for diamonds; allowing the redhead to be pulled along with a minimal of protest. _'But-Aww-C'mon-!' _Didn't even faze the purple haired Amazon as she led Ranma through the entrance where upon the male attendant in the reception area nodded with a pleasant smile, motioning them into the next room with a polite gesture. Shampoo didn't even pay him a glance and was already leading Ranma there anyway. The door slid open easily and the pair stepped into a cloud of steam. Ranma's fate was instantly sealed as Shampoo closed the door behind her, allowing the towel to fall away even as she did so.

Ranma's only reaction was a mild twitch along her right cheek while muttering something about being so dead. She mumbled something about Akane as well, but the now nude Amazon was already fetching bath supplies from one of the shelving units along the wall. Ranma in turn, studiously kept from fixating on any one of the nude women surrounding them now while mentally insisting that she was in her girl form, so it was okay. '_And that's what they'll put on my tombstone,' _the martial artist grumbled self consciously but refused to back down as Shampoo retrieved their washing supplies. It also gave Ranma a target to fixate on, even if said target was naked.

"Ya realize I'm a guy, right?" Ranma asked rhetorically, only to watch Shampoo smirk as she returned with their bathing supplies. Her unexpected touch startled Ranma. "Hey!"

The Amazon gave Ranma's breast a few light squeezes, prompting another twitch of the Saotome's cheek. "Is no guy here. Sit. Will wash back."

Shampoo's foot hooked on a nearby bamboo stool to draw it close while her arms forcefully guided the redhead to sit on it. Ranma's butt hit the wood with protest; protest that all but died the moment her tormentor began to wash and soap her back.

"Look, we can't... This is... Ah... I guess..." Lather began to form on the redhead's back as Shampoo scrubbed, effectively squashing any remaining resistance Ranma might have had concerning her predicament since it just felt good to be _clean _again. The scrubbing stopped after a few minutes and cold water followed, but Ranma simply sat there in relief until an arm fell over her shoulder. Ranma followed it to the hand, where it bore a bar of soap.

"Is Shampoo turn." The girl stated from behind, causing a moment's worth of confusion in Ranma before she realized that it was apparently her turn to soap Shampoo's back. Ranma glanced nervously up at the girl walking around to her side expectantly. It wasn't that she hadn't seen the Amazon naked before. That had happened far too many times for comfort. But actually touching her? _On purpose? _That was akin to a death sentence.

"This, ah, ain't such a good... um.." Shampoo simply shoo'd the redhead off the stool and sat down, forcing the soap into Ranma's hand.

"Airen touch only parts want," Shampoo winked and faced away from the martial artist, waiting. Ranma blushed but set her jaw with the challenge, applied the soap to Shampoo's back and began to lather. The girl coo'd under her scrubbing and Ranma couldn't help but to sympathize, encouraging the redhead to continue with less trepidation. Five minutes later, Ranma set the bar of soap aside in favor of the pale of lukewarm water Shampoo had set aside for a rinse that wouldn't activate her curse. Shampoo smiled back and stood up, taking Ranma's hand. "We go soak!"

"Are you trying to kill me or somethin?!" Ranma finally foot her foot down, staring first at the Amazon as if she had grown a second head, then the pool of hot water that she intend on leading her to... The pool full of _nude Amazon women_.

"Airen worry too-too much; is waterproof soap." Shampoo continued to tug at her arm insistently. The proclamation cracked Ranma's obstinacy enough for her to give a step, then another as the girl elaborated. "Is good for few soaks."

Ranma stared at the purple haired girl and gave another step as she tugged again, wondering what the girl was playing at. After another ineffectual tug, Shampoo stopped, her light hearted attitude turning oddly gentle with the glance back. "Is okay. Shampoo not try fun."

The redhead blinked at the unusual turnabout and decided to let the situation play out, letting the self-proclaimed fiancée to guide her to the edge of the spring where Ranma hesitated amongst the other nude women before following Shampoo in. Half of her expected some form of righteous indignation. She was a guy amongst naked chicks after all and they had to know it. A beat down wouldn't necessarily be unexpected by this point, but all she received as deferential and courteous nods with each step into the hot springs. Soon she didn't even need Shampoo's prompting as the seductive heat drew her further in all by itself, following the Amazon girl to a series of natural steps under the surface. Shampoo sank down to lounge on them, her face melting into relief as her body was submerged.

It was similar to the expression Ranma wore seconds later as she sat down next to Shampoo; a satisfied sigh escaping her as the water's heat penetrated her body, if not her soul. A moment's worth of attention was spared to ensure she had not, in fact, transformed, but everything after that was pure bliss for martial artist and Amazon alike.

"This too-too good," The purple haired teen purred, lounging back into the stone ledge as her body soaked in the liquid heat. "Not celebrate like that in long time, though."

"Ya mean you've done that before?" Ranma inquired absently, her thoughts drifting in and out of hot spring nirvana.

"Is so," Shampoo answered lazily, not even bothering to open her eyes. "First hunt; blooded warrior, this one. All initiates celebrate." She paused, cracking her eyes open just enough to glance at the redhead beside her. "You?"

"Like last night?" Ranma shook her head in remembrance. "Not even close. Found my old man's sake stash when I was about nine though and took it to school, though. Few of us tried it out during break and stumbled into our next period completely blasted."

The Amazon giggled at the thought of a drunk, ten year old Ranma stumbling around. Ranma chuckled at the memory as well, helping to leave her consternation about being in a hot spring full of females behind at the water's edge. She allowed herself to sink deeper to her neck, relishing the heat before cracking her eyes open again. "Y'know, this place really ain't too bad."

"Good to be home," Shampoo nodded as the warm water lapped at her breasts. She cast a speculative glance at the redhead. "Airen stay, maybe?"

Now Ranma couldn't help but to form a lazy smile. "Ya know I can't do that and even if I somehow could, you'd have to kill my old man before it was all over."

"That all?" Shampoo returned with mock seriousness in her tone, causing Ranma to snicker. "This one still have control over silly panda. Can tell jump off cliff if want."

Ranma's eyes popped open with the realization that the girl next to her was right. The fat Panda was still under Shampoo's egg-borne mind control as a matter of fact. The martial artist's expression faltered in an attempt to contain her laughter until outright failing under the weight of the ridiculous idea. The laughter was contagious and both girls suffered a full dose, prompting a few confused looks from the other bathers in attendance before the pair finally reigning themselves in. Their chortling eventually lapsed back into good natured snickers, allowing the duo to relax into the depths of the hot springs once more.

They lounged in companionable silence for several minutes before Shampoo broke it softly. "Shampoo not have chance does she?"

Ranma's eyes blinked open once more to consider this girl, still lounging back in the waters without opening her eyes. She harbored a resigned smile as her purple locks floated like a veil around her body. The pointed observation stole a full minute from the redhead before she could finally come up with her own answer to the question, sinking back down into the water herself.

"I... Maybe under different circumstances..." The Saotome stumbled through her hesitation, picking and discarding justifications on the fly. Shampoo merely opened her eyes to watch Ranma pick through her explanation. "I mean, between my old man, the other girls..."

The purple haired teen rose just far enough out of the water to put a single finger to Ranma's lips, startling her into silence. "Hush. Think understand. Not easy, but think understand."

The finger pulled away and Ranma stared with wide eyes. "You... You _do_?"

She would be the first to, after all.

"Talk with Great Grandmother; see things," Shampoo nodded with the slightest of shrugs. "First meeting, chase, other girls all not go well."

"Story of my life," Ranma sighed, feeling bad for the girl next to her now. "My fault for not bein' as eager as everybody around me, I guess."

"Airen fault for eating tournament prize." The Amazon rolled her eyes, attempting to lighten the drama unfolding between them.

Ranma stared at her mock disdain for a moment before trying for the humor angle herself. "Well if you hadn't a left it out where just anybody could eat it..."

"Too stupid girl!" Shampoo's look turned into exaggerated irritation. She reached over and bopped the martial artist in question on her damp red hair. "Ranma, I kill!"

"Ow!" Ranma rubbed the nonexistent knot on her forehead furiously, glaring back in righteous indignation. "Whaddya do that for?!"

Both stared at one another before bursting into more laughter seconds later. Shampoo bopped Ranma over the head again, only to cause their mutual laughter to renew. Ranma was about to poke more fun back at the girl, but was interrupted as a dull rumble began to permeate the humid atmosphere of the bathhouse. Conversation stopped amongst the other bathing woman and it was then Ranma notice the water's surface. It was beginning to _vibrate_.

"What the _hell?_"

Shampoo glanced down at Ranma running her finger across the increasingly jostled water, then turned her ear back to the omnipresent rumble filling the bath house room. "Where noise come from?"

"Ain't sure but I'm thinkin' we need to find out," Ranma nodded and began to wade to the edge of the water and back onto the tile, mirroring the activities of the other Amazons in her company. The variously nude women went unnoticed as the rumbling gained intensity and Ranma grabbed a towel from a nearby rack to don before stepping quickly outside. Shampoo followed behind and both were greeted by an impossible sight as their eyes drifted to the sky like the crowd already watching from the street.

Streaks of fire blazed across the heavens; incandescent while hot blobs trailing smoke in lines that cut through the morning's cloud speckled sky. Nor was it simply one. Ranma counted no less than seven tracing across the sky before they disappeared amongst the mountainous terrain that surrounded the Amazonian village with more following. Most were fairly high in altitude as indicated by the clouds they cut through. One was much lower, sending its menacing roar to shake the very earth at Ranma's feet.

"Aiyah, what is?!" Shampoo gawked with the redhead, her eyes following the closest fireball yet. Nothing looked like it was going to hit them-_ 'Yet,' _Ranma amended mentally -but the sight of fire from the very heavens themselves was foreboding in its own right. Shampoo shook her head and stepped away, tugging Ranma's arm. "Think need to find Great Grandmother right now!"

Ranma took one last look at the burning rain threading its way through the blue sky before nodding. "I'm thinking you're right."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**  
_A few of you may recognize this intro. I originally had one featuring Akane the night of the great celebration, but it was too terse of a lead-in for what I have in mind. I ended up cannibalizing the intro of a stillborn version of a Ranma/Nanoha fic I'm holding in reserve._


	3. Chapter 3

**Warrior Class  
**_By Ozzallos_

**III.**

"**Y**ou're going back and that's final!"

The proclamation drew the attention of the numerous bystanders passing by, but most were much too busy to pause for the confrontation between a bald, middle-aged martial artist and his black haired son. Genma Saotome stood up straight as if he were the ultimate pillar of authority in his child's life while Ranma merely rolled his eyes as if to underline just how much that authority had eroded over the years.

"Are you kidding?" The pigtailed teen shook his head jabbing a thumb back at the anonymous horizon. "Those weird shitheads are all over the place! We can't just run on back to Japan!"

"That's _exactly_why we need to leave!" Genma hissed, his voice lowering lest their argument attract the wrong type of attention within the village of warrior women. "This isn't out fight, son. Besides, what about Akane?!"

"So take her back with you!" Ranma balked, growing irritated with his father's obstruction. He knew what the fat panda was trying to do, but using Akane as a bargaining chip for his return to Japan was the wrong one. His father could protect her every bit as well as he could and Ranma was more than willing to let him.

Genma frowned at the flat dismissal of his ploy and attempted another. "Your mother will be worried sick over you, boy."

"I'll _write_." His progeny returned dryly and Genma's jaw clenched. Ranma smirked, already knowing what was waiting for him. There was no shift in his posture, but the feeling of discontent roiled around them and Ranma prepared himself for a fight. '_Close in, heavy on the grappling', _the martial artist began to predict his father's opening moves even as he envisioned counters for them and the inevitable distractions the man usually relied on. The smirk on the boy's face crooked into condescension. "Ready when you are old man."

Genma's gaze narrowed, but flicked off his son's person to the crowd who had noticeably slowed around their confrontation. Amazons. Musk. Phoenix. They were all warriors and every last one of them could feel the hostility crackling between the pair. They might even intervene if he was supremely unlucky and Genma decided discretion was the better part of valor in that moment.

"We'll talk _later._"

_'Meanin' you'll try and sneak in and whack me upside the head sometime when you think I ain't payin' attention,' _Ranma mused silently but held his smirk regardless, as if to advertise he knew his father's modus operandi all too well. "Yeah. Well _do _that."

The Saotome patriarch tried to stare his will into the boy, then simply huffed, turning his back on the boy to retreat down the street. Ranma watched his withdraw, then turned his attention back to more important matters. He crossed the street and slid the door open to a modest looking town hall building filled nearly to capacity with a veritable menagerie of people. Bird hybrid people. Tiger Hybrid people. Bear hybrid people. In fact, anybody who wasn't a hybrid _something _was invariably an Amazon female and all were paying attention to the round table situated at the front of the hall. Ranma jockeyed around the bodies to get a better position as one of the Amazonian females spoke, gesturing to a large map that dominated the North wall.

"...with that said, our contacts within the PLA are advising that the third, sixth and eighth division of the People's Army are falling back. The fall of Beijing is inevitable by their estimation and mass evacuations are underway. Tianjin and Shijianhaung will follow suit within days."

"And the current disposition of the horde, Tei Shu?" Ranma's eyes flicked to the Elder who had asked the question. Unlike Cologne next to her, this particular old ghoul sat slightly taller and bore salt and pepper hair tied into a twin belled pony tails. Her gaze appeared every bit as potent as the mummy he already knew, which was fortunately focused on the younger Amazon.

"Turning westward, Honored Elder." The mint green haired woman responded, pointing to an area of red circles congregating along China's eastern seaboard and the cities on it. She drew the point of her stick south, then west. "The Green Ones are sending a modest force southward, presumably on to Shanghai and the rest of the peninsula while the majority seems to be turning further inland."

"They intend on take the whole of Asia in a land war," Another elder from across the table murmured. "Ambitious."

"Worse, these interlopers from the sky have the firepower to potentially succeed." Another voice rumbled. It was the first time Ranma had seen Herb's old man, but the dragon king's black bearded visage spoke of power. Scale plate armor hung off the man just as it did his son standing behind him. "Our own sources report that they are decimating the People's Army at every turn."

"The Phoenix are quite reluctant to intervene on their behalf," Kiima stated passively, clearly unconcerned with the fate of the Chinese Communist forces. The leotard clad woman merely shrugged as she considered the fate of the government armies. "Let the green ones bleed them a little. Or a lot, so much the better."

"We may have little choice in the matter." Cologne observed morosely as she studied their very providence's position in relation to the enemies predicted line of advance. "If the Communist cannot stop this horde, then we will have no choice but to act lest the Party begin to feel... _desperate._"

"Stone burners." Hangzhou also grumbled, recognizing the danger of a party leaders losing control. The Musk King shook his head, however. "Though our adversaries would be poor ones if they are to fall so easily to atomic toys."

"Somehow I do not see such spacemen being so easily dissuaded," The first salt and pepper haired elder shook her head, taking a puff from a nearby pipe. "Nor can we so easily ignore the wanton slaughter of our countrymen to the east."

"Landlings." Kiima stated blandly. Cologne merely smiled.

"And I believe the Landling that defeated you and your king is in this very hall." The old woman smirked, gesturing to the Ranma watching from the crowd. She motioned for the Saotome to come forward and a deferential path parted for the young man. Every single last warrior in the room knew of him and watched as he stepped to the table; Kiima's face lapsing into neutrality as the very path before Ranma all but forced him to step forward. The Elder nodded to the black haired martial artist. "Tell us, son-in-law, what do you think of our esteemed representative's missive?"

"I think after they're done kicking Landling ass, they're gonna come for all ya." Ranma shrugged and Kiima's neutral expression turned into a frown.

"Perhaps."

"This horde will not discriminate between Landlings and or wing ones," The stocky dragon king observed pointedly, agreeing with the martial artist. "We will-"

"Honored Elders! Honored Elders!" All eyes turned onto a teen Amazon with red hair who had rush into the room, sliding open the door violently to make her way through the crowd. "Channel one-zero-eight on the wireless, Honored Elder!"

The taller of the Amazon elders gave Tei'Shu a nod and the woman stepped over to a short wave radio half century out of date and began to flip switches. The blocky device warmed up and she twisted the dial to the appropriate setting before turning up the volume.

"...of approximately one hundred kilotons each." An English accented voice announced through the crackle of static. "Once again, we're interrupting our normal programming to report that we have independent confirmation that the Peoples Liberation Army has detonated multiple nuclear devices just outside of Beijing. The move is obviously a last resort attempt to stall the alien invaders advance upon the capital city. As of yet, China's leadership has refused any and all international assistance but it may only be a matter of time before-"

"That is enough." Cologne interrupted and Tei'Shu turned the volume down. The Amazon Elder sighed, favoring the assembly of men and women. She let the uneasy silence born from the news to linger for a moment before beginning anew. "The time has come for this council to consider more direct action against this green horde, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed. I believe we should retire to discuss the disposition and strategy of our mutual forces," Hangzhou declared calmly, then eyed Kiima and her body guards. "Unless there are objections?"

Attention returned to the white haired Phoenix Captain, whose eyes flicked back and forth across the room as she weighed her options; hesitant to commit her forces after the defeat of her liege. Ironically, it was Ranma Saotome himself who helped her decide. She watched as the martial artist cast a sidelong glance over to Cologne. "Honor guard still got the staff?"

The old woman arched an eyebrow curiously but nodded from atop her cane. "Indeed, son in law."

"Not like I'm gonna need the damn thing anyway." He motioned back to Kiima who blinked her surprise back at the pair.

Cologne favored the Saotome with a penetrating gaze before turning to a nearby Amazon guard with a nod. The woman stepped out of sight and attention returned to Kiima.

"The Phoenix will participate." The white haired woman simply inclined her head.

"Very well." The taller of the elders confirmed, then turned her eyes to Ranma himself. "And may we expect help from the Japanese contingent, young warrior?"

Ranma blinked, not having expected the question or the fact that he was a contingent in and of himself. Come to think of it, he was and he advised the woman such. "Wouldn't count on it. Ryoga will get himself lost sooner or later and my old man plans on rolling out with Akane. I'm about all there is ta this contingent."

"Hmmm." The elder murmured doubtfully. Cologne took the news in stride, however.

"Your father is a known coward and the Tendo is ill-suited for this battle," Cologne outlined simply, studying the pigtailed teen for herself. Ranma found it hard to disagree with the woman on any single point and allowed her to continue uninterrupted. "Your intention is to stay, is it not?"

"Somebody's gotta hang around to bail you all out." The Saotome smirked, to which Colonge smiled slightly. The musk king scratched his black beard with silent appraisal.

"Then I will put you to work, Son-in-law." The woman grasped her gnarled wooden cane, mounting it. Cologne motioned to the Amazon with mint green hair. "Accompany Battle Mistress Tei'shu. Watch, observe and follow her direction, for war and martial arts are not one and the same."

Ranma stared at the woman dubiously but shrugged for lack of anything better to do until there were some names to take and ass to kick. Tei'shu walked up to him, sizing him up from head to toe even as the elders collected around the room's central map. After a moment, the sharp featured Chinese woman sniffed her disdain. "First order for this one: Lose male body. Battlefield for female warriors, not airhead males."

The woman turned her back on him and walked toward the door, leaving Ranma dumbfounded and staring for a moment. The moment quickly passed and his face scrunched with irritation as a single sarcastic thought passed through his head.

Simply _wonderful_.

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
_Like I said, I'm cheating a bit by having a fair portion of this in reserve. One more chapter before we hit my limit. Hopefully it's all liked enough to continue :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Warrior Class  
**_By Ozzallos**  
**_

**IV.**

**T**he warm shower of gore snapped Ranma Saotome's attention from the green hordes washing over their position to the woman on her left, catching the spray of blood across her bare face even as her eardrums weathered the loud crack of a high caliber weapon. Battle Mistress Tei'shu pirouetted violently as her chest opened up in a gout of fire, slapping the woman to the ground in a barely controlled tumble that resulted in a sloppy rollout to her knees. When Ranma was finally able to scrub the gore from her eyes, it was too late. The mint haired Amazon was already kneeling in her own pool of seeping blood flowing from her upper left torso; or rather was left of it. A jagged, basket ball sized hole had craved a tunnel through the woman's shoulder, destroying half her chest and separating the arm wholesale from its body.

Ranma took a step toward the woman through the shock of seeing her devastated body even as Tei'Shu herself simply sat with wide, unseeing eyes. She opened her mouth to speak something but more blood burbled down her chin. And then she was dead. Her body tilted lifeless, hitting the dirt face first before the redhead even had a chance to reach her.

**_"RAAAAWAR!"_**

Ranma didn't even have a chance to mourn her passing as the bestial roar fell upon her. A huge battle axe descended upon her and the redhead profiled right, not to retreat but to step inside its arc. The creature that bore it was a wall of muscle encased in green skin several heads taller than the girl it was attempting to kill. Huge jutting teeth dominated its squat face, though its squashed eyes widened as the giant axe buried itself into the open ground without a human attached. That moment of surprise was all it took for the tiny female to dismantle her massive green opponent piece by piece.

With both meaty green hands solidly fused to the length of the axe, Ranma slid in virtually unopposed, using every bit of her formidable strength to shatter the monster's left knee. Dense muscle and bone held the joint a fraction of a second longer than that of a normal human's, but a bellow of agony followed the meaty snap, terminally compromising the monster's balance. A huge arm swept in regardless of the audible agony in an attempt to backhand Ranma with a blow that would probably have snapped any bone it encountered, but the blood splattered redhead had already ducked below as she selected her next targets.

Against any other opponent, her next move would have ended the fight lethally as she decided against a high speed chestnut strike in favor of full power, open palm hammers. Experience taught that even the rapid fire lighter hits would only piss it off and these things were as tough as anybody or anything she had encountered to date.

_'And that's okay by me_,' Ranma decided ruthlessly and began to pulverize its torso with heavy handed strikes. Each impact cracked something, staggering the beast but failed to stop it from responding to the blows. Still, it was far too slow for her and she pivoted to avoid another green fist while the beast bellowed furiously at her. She used its left arm as a springboard to height and spun around, burying the heel of her foot into the left side of its face before falling back to the earth. Anybody else taking the equivalent blow would have been dead on the spot, but the monster continued to stagger drunkenly even with half of its cranium caved in.

"Fuck this." Ranma hissed and pulled the monster's own discarded battle axe from the earth. She twirled the weapon that was easily as tall as she was like a glaive to test it balance, which was horrible to say the least. It didn't, however, stop the redhead from reengaging the floundering monster in two blurring cuts. One cleaved its right arm away, sending it and the bulky pistol it had been grasping for clear of the melee in a spray of dark purple ichor. The next cut was absolutely lethal as it bisected the creature's torso from its stubby neck on the right all the way through mid-torso on the left.

The redhead was showered in more purple gore as she recovered; the green monster falling to literal pieces behind her. Another roar beckoned her attention and Ranma spun around, sighted a new monster assailing a fellow Amazon and whipped the axe back. The giant weapon tumbled end over end through open air upon release like a circular saw, burying itself in the surprised demon's head and torso to stop its attack cold. Whether it was lethal or not was a different story. The beast lurched backward with the impact and fell to the ground, but continued to squirm. It wasn't able to form any sort of coherent movement however, and the Amazon it was attacking was safe.

Relatively speaking.

Her gaze was inevitably drawn to the south east as half hazard ranks of green skinned monsters were engaging the division she had been attached to with horrifying success. While there was isolated resistance here and there, it was an overall bloodbath for the remainder of their force. Amazons attempting to employ their hand to hand combat skills were being cut down by ranged fire courtesy of ungainly mobile fortresses composed of little more than tracks, armored plating and heavy weapons turrets. Some of the Musk attached to their division were faring better, but if the heavy volumes of fire didn't prove fatal, the green skin's numbers invariably did. The Phoenix fared the best against the inaccurate ground fire and ability to escape melee, but their inability to inflict substantial punishment against the green juggernauts was all too telling.

A noisy rumble echoed across the field of battle and Ranma watched with dread as some sort of airplane cleared the nearby mountain range and leveled off. The thing was an eyesore and looked like it shouldn't have been able to maintain airworthiness, but it somehow did; its three bulbous jet engines belching black smoke as it banked in. It seemed to select a heading to transverse their battlefield and began to spew fire from several of the half a dozen turrets mounted. The landscape below it puckered as heavy caliber rounds impacted and if Ranma didn't know any better, inflicted a fair amount of friendly fire while its guns chewed through round after round. Much as she liked that, the green things could absorb the casualties. Their forces couldn't.

The sheer volume of fire ensured the airborne Phoenix warriors were cut from the sky even as the alliance troops below were strafed. One of the piecemeal armored vehicles suddenly exploded as its main armament was triggered, and a small team of six Musk disappeared in a violent plume of fire and debris.

_'Son of a bitch!'_Ranma growled as their front continued to die piece by piece. The only reason it hadn't failed entirely was due to the orders Tei'Shu had already set in motion. The redhead glanced at the dead woman's cooling body, realizing that whatever they had going for them now wasn't going to last much longer and while she wasn't a battlefield general, Ranma could see the writing on the wall with all the clarity of a martial arts challenge. They were completely out manned and overpowered. Their opponent didn't need to particularly skillful or cunning with such an overwhelming advantage.

_'They have goddamn tanks and airplanes!' _Ranma balked at the unfairness of their circumstance but worked the problem regardless. She looked around for the next in command, but the only other Amazon in her immediate vicinity not fighting in a life or death battle was busy stabbing the life out of the still twitching Green Skin corpse with her jian. '_We're gonna lose_,' The revelation floated through Ranma's tactical consciousness as the individual elements of the battlefield painted an all too bleak picture for her martial arts mindset. Another explosion tore away at the battle beyond and she made a command decision.

_'But we ain't on death ground yet_,' the redhead acknowledged and sprinted over to the nearest Amazon. She had golden blond hair, brilliant in the sunlight but spackled by purple blood of the corpse monster she straddled. Her jian rose again to take another feral slash at it when a hand caught her by the wrist. The red eyed woman snapped up, all but ready to attack when she recognized the redhead.

"Can ya understand me?" Ranma held her wrist a brief moment longer before being assured she wouldn't be the target of the women's aggression. The Amazon warrior refocused and nodded hesitantly. "Good. We're outta here. Pass the word to whoever's left." Incomprehension floated across the blonde's face until Ranma spelled it out for her. "We're retreatin', dammit!"

The woman understood that quite clear as evidenced by her widening eyes and angry stream of mandarin directed at Ranma's person; an angry stream that Ranma cut off by grabbing the woman by the scruff her bloody silk tunic. The martial artist impatiently yanked her up to height, into her face and pointed to the carnage on the plain beyond. "We stay, we die. Every last one of us!"

The Amazon watched the battle for a precious moment and suddenly comprehended that they were getting their asses kicked. _Badly._Her gaze jerked back to Ranma and she nodded tersely. "This one tells." Ranma released her and she scrambled two steps away before stopping, turning back with a question. "Retreat where?"

That was a good question, Ranma realized. A _damn_ good one. Somewhere that wasn't here obviously, but... The redhead worked their dilemma through her martial arts mindset and with a speed born through desperation. They needed advantage. They need leverage. '_Too much open land for the big gunss. No cover from the skies.'_ She remembered the map of the surrounding area. Hell, she had _memorized _it. They needed a defense, surely, but Ranma sensibilities and years of Anything Goes demanded more than that. She needed a way to flow from defense to offense and she could only think of place that would even offer the glimpse of possibilities for that to take place. Her decision was made in just under two seconds of analysis.

"We're fallin' back to Jusenkyo." Ranma decided grimly. The Amazon looked stunned, but nodded, racing off.

The next seventy two hours were the worst of the seventeen year old martial artist's young life. Worse than growing up on the road with her old man. Worse than being traded away at random for little more reason than to fill his accursed belly. Worse than any challenges borne from the fiancées or rivals hanging around him. Worse than the bleak darkness of the demon filled pit itself.

Her haphazard order had managed to extricate three hundred and thirty eight warriors from the field of battle... Of an initial force of just over _two thousand _Amazons, Musk and Phoenix combined. Simply running wasn't enough, however as the Green Skins continued to pick at their heels, forcing Ranma to improvise and adapt on the fly in order to save the command she had somehow inherited. The pigtailed teen had adapted a great many things to her martial arts mindset over the years- Anything Goes Fine Dining. Anything Goes Ikebana. Anything Goes Tea Ceremony. It was all almost inconsequential compared to what she had been forced to adapt to in their bloody retreat to Jusenkyo: Anything Goes Battlefield Warfare.

It was amazingly like martial arts, Ranma reflected soberly as she hid amongst an outcropping of stone, herself and the last of her command concealed in the shadows as they waited for the word of enemy contact to be passed along to them by the picket she had set up to harass the green bastards at the mouth of the valley. Like martial arts, it was her job to drop the opponent by analyzing his weaknesses and pitting them against her strengths. Their first and every subsequent encounter had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that they couldn't stand toe to toe with this particular adversary, so she didn't. She went for the ribs. Joints. Weak areas. There weren't many of those in the Green Skin army, but they were there and she attacked them from the most unexpected of angles and withdrew before becoming decisively engaged.

The only difference here was her hands and feet were the lives of men and women and she had never been able to withdraw them completely unscathed. For every hit and fade maneuver she executed to slow the enemy down, she lost people. For every inexperienced, half assed tactic she threw at the monsters to keep them off balance, more died. She had added a full day to their route back to Jusenkyo by winding through a rain forest on the western edge of the valley just to deny the tanks and aircraft the opportunity to fire upon them and in the process lost more of her wounded that weren't up for the strenuous terrain. Men and women died and now only one sixth of the original two thousand remain to support what promised to be the final act of her command: The last stand in the heart of Jusenkyo.

A sharp, bird-like whistle interrupted her thoughts and the thousand yard stare that had taken a hold of the redhead. She glanced left to her second in command. She was a wiry Amazon a head taller than Ranma herself with almost white hair and pale, golden eyes. Like herself, the woman's silk battledress had seen better times; splattered with blood, dirt, burns and various tears. She was still alive however, and that made her a veteran just like every last one of her remaining three hundred and thirty eight warriors. The white haired Amazon cocked her head as the whistle echoed softly within the canyon before turning.

"Picket has contact." She reported softly in broken Japanese. "Many Green Skins, less armor. No plane yet."

Ranma considered the news for a moment and mentally reviewed the plan that was fraught with peril. If they failed here they could still withdraw, but there wouldn't be enough of them left alive to matter. This element of Jusenkyo Alliance would be shattered for all intents and purposes.

"No surrender, no retreat." She murmured and committed her forces for the last time, turning back to the woman. "Reel them in... _Yu_."

Xao'Pei watched her commander pantomime reeling a fish in and smiled grimly, turning back out to the valley with clear understanding as to the intent. She cupped her left hand to her mouth and whistled a terse bird song. A single note echoed in reply and she nodded back to Ranma. "Is done."

"Get the rest ready." Ranma ordered,and leaned out of the rock cropping for a better view even as the white haired amazon whistled more orders to the men and women around them. Beyond was the very valley that had cursed her; now little more than a shallow lake with bamboo stalks interspersed throughout. A morning fog hung lethargically about them, limiting her visibility to only a few hundred yards and barely enough to see to the other shore, though the motorized rumble of mechanized vehicles could be heard in the wind. An unmistakable chant the redhead commander had come to associate with the green horde echoed alongside the din...

_"...'Ere we go! 'Ere we go! 'Ere we go!"_

"Yeah, come and get it, you bastards," Ranma mumbled and ducked back behind her rock, sighting the highest ranking Musk soldier left alive in her division. The mauve haired teen caught her sight and she beckoned him over silently. The bear hybrid musk ducked over between rocks to sidle up alongside her with almost no lingering glance at her female form. The battle had all but beat the instinct out of him. Xao'Pei joined her and Ranma summarized the plan for the last time.

"Xao-chan, harassment fire when I say._ Jiàntóu_," The redhead reiterated in Chinese and the Amazon nodded her comprehension. "Save the tags for when they hit Jusenkyo itself. Koro, if it's still alive by the time it gets to us, you and your boys kill it."

"Consider it dead," The wild haired musk growled, his hand floating to the hilt of his scimitar.

"Let them come to you," Ranma cautioned, hoping to get through to the kid's need to avenge himself on the green monsters. "That water's dangerous shit right now. Let them play in it, not us."

The musk nodded, but the fire still burnt in his eyes. '_Good enough_,' she decided and dismissed the pair to relay her instructions while silently hoping her last, desperate gambit would pay off and save all their asses... Or at least leave so little of the enemy behind in their passing that another Jusenkyo Alliance force could brush them aside. Ranma paused with the thought, shaking her head.

_'Ranma Saotome don't lose_.'

She just wished she could muster the sentiment with less nervous energy.

Another sharp whistle pierced the fog and a dozen Amazonian women could now be seen transversing the tops of the bamboo shoots that jutted from the surface of Jusenkyo, hopping from one to another. Gunfire could be heard from Ranma's cover now, which meant they had done their job: Pissing off the enemy enough to lead them straight back to her position. A startled cry broke the martial artist thoughts and she watched as a large caliber bullet caught one of her scouts mid-leap, tearing a hole in her chest and sending her plummeting into the lake with a splash. A pair of Amazon's paused along flanking positions and sent a volley of arrows back into the enemy infantry which was just now appearing on the opposite shoreline. Another woman waited for some sign of life within the water, but whatever their sister's fate below, she had not come up for air.

The scouts continued their withdraw and the first one hopped ashore, scrambling for Ranma's position amongst the valley rocks. The black bun-haired haired girl- barely thirteen -slid to a halt next to her, panting out a report. "This one reports mission accomplished! Three casualties: LaoMein, Tei'Let, and Musk boy Kubota. Phoenix stand by ready, Battle Mistress!"

Ranma nodded in kind, not having the heart to correct her status in the girl's eyes. The other women joined her and she ordered them to regroup the other Amazons behind cover. She gave the meandering enemy one last look before rising to her full diminutive height with a dire grin. It looked as if the Green S++kins would need encouragement if they were to be goaded into crossing the expanse that had once been over a thousand cursed springs, each with their own tragic story.

Now it was time to add one more.

"Joketsuzoku!_ Jiàntóu!_" She called for the deployment of the rest of her Amazons from cover and the canyon rock was suddenly alive as the women stepped out from cover and drew their arrow laced bows back. Her hand aloft held them in silent readiness until she dropped it suddenly. "_Fire!_"

The command to attack unleashed salvo of approximately one hundred and fifty arrows skyward; light by any standard against the horde they were facing down but more than enough to get their attention. Their flight time across the lake was roughly three seconds along the high arc and their impact was hardly precise. One in three arrows actually hit a green beast and when it did, almost invariably inflicted a non lethal blow. In fact, none of the arrows that landed actually killed anything, but that wasn't the point. Ranma Saotome had already seen their complete lack of effectiveness and wasn't banking on the salvo actually doing much damage. The redhead was hoping it would have another effect however, and that effect began to manifest itself in the form of enraged bellowing that echoed off the canyon walls.

The arrows hadn't killed anything, but they had certainly pissed the Green Skins off something fierce. Another salvo launched skyward and three seconds later more bellowing echoed back at them. This time the green host surged forth.

_"__**WAAAGH!**__ DA ORKS!"_

Arrows continued to fall as the first ranks of the green army splashed into the waters, followed quickly by their brethren from behind. The horde was now in full bloodlust mode; so much so that they didn't even notice as their brothers began to twist in upon themselves and change. Had they actually taken the time to watch, they would have witnessed their fellows collapse into a cat, then a mongoose. Then a bear, then an ox, then a small boy... The transformations continued at a rate of roughly once every two seconds until an arrow found the much more vulnerable form to pierce, killing it instantly.

The inexplicable transformations had another dramatic affect amongst the craze Green Skin infantry that had noticed that there were now pigs, goats, cats, dogs, oxen, octopi and other creatures suddenly sloshing around in their midst. The boy and girl transformations really caught their attention and the green demons began to hack and shoot down their own as one after another fell victim to Jusenkyo's mixture of curses. Still, the ranks from behind continued to push the ranks in front into the lake, perpetuating the cycle as the monsters pushed to the halfway mark.

"Signal the Phoenix! _NOW!_" Ranma hollered above the bellowing roars and gunfire pelting their position, and the black haired scout lit a small charge, dumped it into her sling and gave it several heaves before flinging it skyward where it promptly exploded a few hundred feet above their position. The sharp crack echoed off the canyon walls and the effect was instantaneous. The sky was suddenly alive as the remainder of her Phoenix contingent- some fifty warriors -swooped in with their own bows for more accurate fire. Some were powerful enough to shed their feathers in a razor whirlwind as they strafed the green ranks, killing anything that had transformed into something less durable.

**_BOOOOM!_**

The rock to Ranma's left suddenly detonated as armor from the opposite shore opened up on them with indiscriminate fire. A couple of bodies tumbled out of the wall of fire but Ranma paid them little mind as she gave her next command. "Light tags!"

The next volley of arrows were special. Explosive tags coiled around the shafts of each one, burning down as they fell into the already embattled Green Skin ranks that had managed to advance across nearly a third of the lake through sheer numbers alone. Occasionally one would find a beast and bury itself into its green hide like so many arrows before, then explode, tearing a huge chunk away from the monster. That, however, wasn't what Ranma had intended. The number of tags they had managed to scavenge from the battle field were limited as it was and there certainly weren't enough to spend them on individual targets. Instead, most dropped exactly where the redhead preferred them to: The water.

Huge geysers of Jusenkyo cursed water erupted up and down the horde, transforming any green beast it drenched into something else; normally something less lethal and far more vulnerable. The numbers of Green Skins dying now eclipsed anything her army had seen in the last four days of combined fighting but they still they advanced. The tanks began to wade the shallow depths of the lake now and seemed to be doing a fair job of staying out of harm's way while peppering her shore with large caliber fire. Two massive armored vehicles began their own assault, rolling over any Green Skin or cursed Green Skin in their way. A less fearsome but no less armored vehicle trailed behind him, chattering with machine gun fire in seemingly random directions in order to cut down the wildlife springing up around them. Cursed humans were targeted with extreme prejudice, normally wounding scores of their own in the process.

Absolute chaos ruled the Green Skin ranks as friendly fire did far more damage than Ranma could have possibly hoped for and she signaled Koro. For the first time in days a fierce, prideful roar erupted from their own ranks as Musk warriors charged out to meet the few green monstrosities that had managed to reach their shores. Guns fired in response, but their aim was woefully inadequate and Ranma's hybrid warriors closed the distance in seconds. The Musk could take punishment and she had equalized the numbers. The green men were still coming of course, but Jusenkyo was the choke point and it was hampering any efforts on the part of their enemy to bring decisive force to bear upon them. Green Skins were being cursed by the hundreds. Their brethren were killing their own in similar quantity. The tanks were shooting anything that moved.

Ranma nodded to herself and took hold of the well notched Orkish battle axe that had leaned against the rock unmolested until now, stepping out from cover to join the battle.

* * *

Author's Notes:  
This is the last whole section I have. Part 5 is incomplete so we'll see how it goes in relation to my other projects :)

**Orc Blood;** _Originally red, later books retcon it to green in keeping with their equally retcon'd biology. Unfortunately green on green is harder to see on table top games and loses the impact red does. Since red and other colors have retained their popularity, I split the difference and went for purple._


	5. Chapter 5

**Warrior Class  
**By _Ozzallos_**  
**

**V.**

**I**t was a roadway of devastation and ruin, both literally and figuratively. Whatever had happened had happened big, and there was little left of the main artery into and out of the village that wasn't scorched earth and tinder. Ranma's eyes traced the horizon as her company marched on regardless, noting the burnt kindling of what had once been a treeline leading all the way up to the village of the Joketsuzoku itself. The burnt out husk of a tank- a human tank -sat along the side of the road with several large holes punched through it. It was also not the first they had passed, though this one formed the center of a sandbagged machine gun nest manned by a mixed force of ragged looking PLA soldiers, Amazon women and Imperial Musk.

That , as was the fact that there was still a village to actually come back to was heartening in and of itself, as opposed to the alternative. The landscape still bore the obvious scars of just how close this particular battle had come to the Amazon home and hearth. Ranma tore her gaze away from one of the many spiral scarred craters she had passed to address the squad coming to attention around the stricken tank. A machine gun angled up to point in their direction but stopped short of bearing directly down upon Ranma and her diminished company, while one of the Amazon women stepped out from behind the barricade to address her directly.

The steady stream of mandarin was lost on the Saotome save a word here and there so she nodded for a black haired girl to step forward beside her. "What'd she say, Yun-yun?"

The challenging blue haired Amazon looked at Ranma strangely as the thirteen year old girl who looked every bit as ragged as the redhead translated for her. "She ask for name and division."

"Tell her." Ranma shrugged wearily and the mandarin began flowing once more. At some point halfway through the conversation the woman's eyes widened and she snapped an order to another black haired Amazon in combat fatigues perched atop the tank. This one had a sword on her back and a rugged looking assault rifle in hand. She hopped down to join her comrade. She sized up the redhead with a deferential look.

'This one is Qui'tip. Escort to command, honored warrior," The rifle bearing warrior began, motioning further down the path. "Little one here show battle sister second in command. Will coordinate with to relieve warriors while debrief."

"Yun-Yun _is_ my second in command." Ranma's expression deadened and she motioned to the young bun-haired girl at her side. The amazon guard stared at the little girl, then turned back to Ranma with solemn realization as to just what it took for a thirteen year old girl to be promoted to the redhead's second while Ranma returned her attention turned back to Yun-Yun, gesturing to a number of caged animals. "Wounded first. Don't let the guards eat our catch."

"Yes, Battle Mistress!" Yun-Yun snapped to attention with a terse bow and began to pass orders to the rest of the company while Ranma in turn gestured for her guide to lead the way. The scene looked no less bleak the closer the martial artist drew to village itself, with the main gate drawing the majority of her attention as Qui'Tip led onward.

Specifically, the gate _wasn't there_.

Judging by the blackened cinders of the bamboo fortified wall, whatever had gone down in the rain forest behind her had made its way up here as well, and little of the Joketsuzoku's defensive wall remained untouched along this side of the village. Entire holes had been blown into it, leaving little more than splinters and match sticks where it had been breached in over a dozen places. Workers had erected scaffolding around the skeletal remains of the wall to effect hasty repairs, but some sections were complete and total write offs. The pair passed along more burnt out armored husks and while it was heartening to see a lopsided greenskin tank here and there, the majority of the torched shells they passed were definitely human in origin.

On any other day Ranma might have whistled appreciatively and made some smart-assed comment about who kicked the shit out of who, but that day wasn't today; nor would it likely be seen in the foreseeable future. Today she knew exactly who had kicked the shit out of the Amazons because it had been the same people who had kicked the shit out of her people as well.

'_My people_,' the redhead scoffed bitterly even as a more detached portion of her brain marveled at the destruction she and her guide were now passing through. They weren't her people. They were Tei'Shu's people. '_I'm just some stand-in gettin 'em killed,' _Ranma groused morbidly as they continued through to the village interior. It didn't look any better than the exterior. Entire blocks were razed, burned to the very earth for nearly three hundred meters in every direction as the breach widened. Tents had sprung between the craters, tending to clusters of what appeared to be refugees...

'..._Ain't Amazons,'_ Ranma decided while wondering what had transpired to have a refugee camp set up within the heart of the Joketsuzoku.

'_Nuthin' good,'_ She reasoned as the pair wound their way through the lines of displaced refugees and deeper into the village where the battle hadn't reached. There was still damage, but buildings stood and Qui'tip picked a path along familiar cobblestone streets until coming to an unfamiliar building whose entrance was flanked by two more heavily armed Amazons. Their chatter abruptly ceased with the Qui'tips approach, stepping aside upon recognition of their sister in arms. Ranma noted how their wondering gazes lingered over her person but was far too exhausted to care as the door opened to admit them. Qui'Tip and Ranma rounded a corner, climbed a flight of stairs and encountered a sparse waiting room manned by another Amazon guard. This one didn't automatically open the door as she spied the arriving women.

The sentry mentioned something in Chinese and Qui'tip glanced back to her redheaded companion. "Matriarch in negotiations with PLA commander. Must wait."

Ranma merely arched an eyebrow and listened to the muffled conversation issuing through the door. Cologne's measured, cool tone was easily recognizable to her ear. It was a stark contrast to the gruff male voice arguing over the old woman; a stupid move in the redhead's opinion which in turn forced the pair to wait outside the door. After a full five minutes of back and forth arguing, the battle weary girl tired of the bickering and stepped past the guard, surprising her as she reached for the door. The Amazon's initial move to restrain the Saotome was halted by a subtle shake of her partner's head.

"...And as the senior People's Army commander in this village, I demand you turn your forces over to my authority so that-"

"Your forces, General, limped into the Joketsuzoku and led the green host to our very doorstep," The click of the door caused Cologne pause and her eyes widened as a battered redhead trode into the room, leaving her at a loss of words even as the general turned around with an irritated look for their new arrival. After a quick study of the ragged looking girl, he turned back to the elder.

"What is a Japanese waif doing-"

"A pleasant surprise, Son in law... Ranma," Cologne ignored the general, looking past the man in wonder. Ranma simply nodded, having missed the emphasis on her name while the Elder gathered her wits through the mental reset. "The rumors of your demise appear to be greatly exaggerated. We were under the impression that Tei'shu's element had been overrun."

Ranma simply acknowledged the fact with a terse nod while the general bristled at being ignored.

"If you have forgotten, I am a general in the People's Liberation Army!" The uniformed man continued taking Cologne to task. The pale officer thumped his fist on her desk, prompting her to send a subtle nod to Qui'tip as he continued ranting. "I will not be insulted as such and you will remand-OH!"

The braided, black haired Amazon stepped behind the belligerent man and jabbed him squarely between the shoulder blades, causing his eyes to widen and effectively bringing a halt to his speech as she dropped him like a sack of rice to the floor.

Ranma considered the unconscious officer with little sympathy as the village elder gave further instructions. The old woman studied the inert man as if he were a bug to be squashed, then turned her attention back to Qui'tip. "Ensure that he has a change of heart concerning his position within _our _command structure."

"It will be done," The Amazon inclined her head respectfully and grabbed the man by his arms, carelessly dragging his body from the office to leave Ranma and Cologne alone. The door clicked closed and Cologne returned to the redhead.

"I expect the news to be fairly dire as per most of our encounters with the green skins to date," She acknowledged from behind her desk, fingering the length of her kiseru as it smoldered on its rest. "The last scout report we received had Tei'shu's command traveling south of Hoh Sai Hu in full retreat before the damnable Communist lead the beasts right to our doorstep here. Not to be indelicate, but what is left of her command?"

"Tei'shu's dead." Ranma recounted the battle as the faces of those slain around her flashed through her mind's eye. Cologne acknowledged the fact with a silent nod as the redhead continued. "They were kickin' our ass so we got the hell out."

"Then somebody besides the late Tei'Shu ordered the retreat?" Cologne pressed in an effort to obtain a better picture of just how bad things had gotten... and how bad they may yet become.

"Wasn't anybody else but me," Ranma shook her head tiredly with the explanation. "They were on the verge of rolling us, Ol' Ghoul. I took what was left and did the a Anything Goes final technique."

'_Not good,' _The Elder's heart sank at the news. A combined force of over two thousand Amazon, Musk and Phoenix shattered on the field of battle... So devastated that the child before her had been forced to act as its commander. '_Not good at all_,' she decided and pulled the pipe up, taking a long drag from it before asking the question she really didn't want to ask. "Casualties?"

She watched as a distant look settled into the martial artist eyes and it told her everything she needed to know. It took several seconds for the girl's attention to return to the here and now. "Damn near everybody. We got about a hundred and fifty left and a few dozen of them are wounded."

'_Two thousand!'_ Cologne's intellect screamed at the injustice of it all. Tei'Shu was a competent Battle Mistress. Her warriors were skilled in their own right. And only _one hundred and fifty_ had come through it alive. The fact also made Cologne's next question all the more dire in her eyes. "Then what of the status of your opposition? What of their ranks and position?"

Cologne was reaching for the old rotary phone at the edge of her desk to assemble the war council anew in order to repel the force that had undoubtedly chased Tei-shu's command- Ranma's command -all the way back to the village when she noticed the glacial edge in the girl's eyes. A thin, grim smile accompanied it as she watched.

"Son in law?"

"Their status is _dead_." Ranma replied coolly.

Cologne was left blinking in the moment, unable to reconcile the concepts of the mass casualties they had taken with the complete defeat of the enemy force arrayed against them. "Dead?"

"There ain't much left of us, but there's _nothin'_ left of them," Ranma advised direly. "Led the assholes by the nose through Jusenkyo."

"I... I see," The Elder merely stared at the ragged girl. Her worn, dirty exterior reminded Cologne of another girl she had once known a lifetime ago. The older woman pulled herself away from the reminiscence of wars past and focused on the here and now. "Then some rest for you and yours. Once you have sufficiently recuperate, I will need-"

"That's gonna wait," The martial artist shook her head and turned for the door. "Gotta check on Akane first, then-"

"The Tendo girl has, how shall I put this...? She has _left _the village."

Cologne's advisement stopped Ranma as she reached for the door. The redhead turned back, blinking confusion at the woman. "Left?"

"Your father's doing, do doubt," The gray haired woman sighed. "Spirited away under the cover of darkness just before the arrival of the Greenskins, near as we can determine."

"I... That sounds just like him," Ranma shook her head, her emotions straddling the line between relief and disgust. "He'll keep Akane out of the line of fire, I guess."

"A self serving, but calculated maneuver on your father's part," Cologne nodded, mirroring Ranma's own feelings on the matter. "Still, I cannot help but to think it is for the best."

The girl before her produced a silent nod, though the Amazonian elder could see the turmoil created behind the scenes and decided to return to business before Ranma overthought the development. "Once you have rested, I will need details from you and whatever is left of Tei'shu's command. Right now we know precious little of our adversary and the debt of blood runs high."

"I'll try and round it up for ya," Ranma nodded, her focus once more returning to business as intended. Even so, a harder edge found its way into her gaze. "I'm sure you'll want a crack at the prisoners too."

"Prisoners?" The word all but fell out of Cologne's mouth in disbelief.

"Cursed tryin' to cross Jusenkyo. Got Yun-Yun lookin' after em." Ranma merely nodded as the elder continued to stare, reflecting upon her her village's own trial by fire. Yes, they had beaten back the green horde at their doorstep and yes the Joketsuzoku still stood, but prisoners? The battle for hearth and home had been too fierce. Too intense. No quarter was given or offered against the nearly ten thousand that had chased the Peoples Liberation Army through the Qinghai province. That, and the things just _didn't die_; at least not easily. Their sheer numbers and the ability to survive even the most grievous wounds made eradication the only option.

Cologne continued to stare, trying to process the improbable statement the redhead had delivered.

"I believe you are quite correct, Son-in-law," Cologne nodded carefully as the anticipation built up slowly. "We will indeed want a 'crack' at them, as you put it."

"Thought ya might," The girl replied with little emotion, then turned for the door. "Think I'll take you up on that offer ta rest. We could all use some."

"Indeed," The gray haired Amazon elder murmured her agreement even as her trained eye witnessed the fatigue the martial artist was suppressing. There would be time for questions later... _Hopefully_. Ranma stepped away and Cologne cleared her throat to gain the Saotome's attention one last time. "If I may ask a favor, Son-in-law?"

Ranma paused at the tepid tone Cologne had assumed and she turned back expecting to see the old crone's business demeanor. Instead, it flickered with emotion. Concern. '_Worry?' _Ranma guessed haphazardly. It wasn't something she had witnessed _ever_ and she watched, waiting for the elder to continue. The woman's eyes diverted themselves to the smoldering pipe sitting upon its rest as she chose her words carefully.

"If you could visit my great grand daughter before retiring," Cologne broached the topic carefully, returning her gaze to the martial artist. "Battle has called me from her side and I believe knowing you have returned would do her good."

"Ah, alright," Ranma agreed tepidly, unsure of where their conversation was going. The thought that it was another set up by the old ghoul crossed her mind, but the old woman's behavior was well off for that. Ranma cocked her head in curiosity. "I mean sure, why not? Where is she?"

"The field hospital."

Ranma's eyes widened. A compliant nod was the only response she could give.

* * *

**Author's notes:** More inbound.

Minimally edited by me, so if it's rougher than usual, that's why.  
Input from Materia Blade, DCG and a few others, who are always awesomesauce.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warrior Class  
**By _Ozzallos_

**VI.**

**T**he groans of pain and suffering were the predominant sounds of an atmosphere consisting of antiseptic and lingering death. Ranma Saotome made her way through that world with slow deliberation, simultaneously wishing she didn't have to while scanning the occupied cots for the Amazon elder's great granddaughter. She had been on the front lines according to the Old Gh- _Elder Cologne_, Ranma mentally corrected herself in light of the situation. The old woman deserves that respect, at least, especially after this. Shampoo had been right in the thick of the action and had taken a critical hit according to her account.

'_Looks like everybody took a critical hit,'_ The redhead noted solemnly as she passed row after row of injured. Most were bandaged to some degree while the worst had puddles of smeared blood around their cots. They were the amputees or those with grave injury. Amazons. Peoples Army. Musk. Even a scarce few Pheonix. No portion of their forces went unrepresented within the makeshift field hospital she now walked. Her footsteps carried her through something wet and she studiously ignored the liquid-something she had stepped through lest it be more than just mud or water. This particular tent turned up no lavender haired Amazon, however.

One down, four more to go.

It was within the third medical tent that Ranma found the girl lying all but inert on a ragged cot similar to all the other ragged cots she had passed looking for Shampoo. '_Arms and legs, check_,' the martial artist appraised morbidly as she approached, though the white gauze bandage woven around her cranium was far from a good sign. Bad things came from head injuries. Experience had taught that much, but the details told another story as she circled around the unconscious girl holding herself in a fetal position.

The bandage indeed tracked around her head, but was centered around the left eye. The thin red line of an open skin cut nearly three centimeters down the cheek. The right eye had been mercifully spared, but the left...

'_...Gone,'_ Ranma judged, based on the ruddy brown discoloration of the gauze itself. Another wellspring of regret stabbed through the martial artist as she watched the Amazon breath, her entire body twitching every now and then. Seeing her injured... surrounded by the infirmed... Only hours removed from the battlefield herself... The redhead suddenly felt so very tired and sank to her knees, leaning against the cot where she sat silently for several long moments

"Sorry I wasn't there, Shampoo," Ranma whispered to the air, slouching into the side of the cot as guilt washed in like a tide once more. Akane had gotten out with her old man. Shampoo? "Didn't have much a choice, didja?"

Unlike Akane or her father, Shampoo had everything to lose. Friends. Family. Home. Sure she could have theoretically picked up and ran, but... her head rolled to get a closer glimpse of the wound that would eventually become one hell of a battle scar.

"Damn that had to hurt." Ranma whispered to nobody in particular.

"Is so." The response cause Ranma to fully twist around in surprise to find the slightest smile on Shampoo's lips even though her single visible eye remained closed. It fluttered open a moment later, acquiring Ranma lethargically. "Like hot iron in brain."

The redhead winced at the description, but nodded, simply relieved to see the Amazon conscious. "Gotta admit it looks like shit. Old Grandma's worried about ya too."

"Will be fine," The lavender haired girl murmured, letting her single eye flutter closed. Still, she continued to converse. "Airen only come for Great grandmother?"

"Yeah, old bat threatened to beat me with that stick of hers," Ranma simply rolled her eyes, making light of the loaded question. The martial artist chuckled at the very thought. "I mean, how old is that damn thing anyway?"

The sightless Amazon smiled to herself, her question answered in characteristic Saotome fashion. Even so, she addressed the largely rhetorical question if only to keep the conversation light. "Tribe heirloom. Is old-old."

"Must be why it hurts so damn much," Ranma snorted softly and Shampoo allowed the chocolate brown eye to float open once more. Both studied the other, but it was shampoo that broke their companionable silence first.

"Last heard Airen division not do so well?" She wondered, to which Ranma merely nodded.

"Got our asses handed to us," The redhead stated simply, not bothering with the details. It was, after all, the theme of every last encounter with the horde thus far. Survivor's remorse flooded back in like an ocean tide. She tried to work her own thoughts out but completely failed in the attempt. "I... they all... we..."

A light touch on her shoulder halted the increasingly incoherent babble. Ranma turned to find the single eye solidly fixed on her. Shampoo gave her a solemn, knowing nod. "Shampoo know. Same. Mousse... Not make it."

The martial artist's mouth opened once more then closed it, responding with her own subdued nod. It took several long moments for the redhead to compose her thoughts through the tempest of guilt, fury and impotence they wallowed through. "I... yeah. Anything you need?"

"Airen has spare eyeball for Shampoo?"

Ranma blinked, then snickered with Shampoo's own giggle. The redhead forced a confident smirk to her face. "How about I help you carve one out of these green assholes when you get better?"

"Is deal." The produced a faded smile, then yawned. "Shampoo no seem stay awake..."

"Get some sleep," Ranma prompted, standing up for the first time since sitting initially. "I'll let granny know you're okay."

"Sound good..." The girl's statement trailed off and the eye fluttered closed. Ranma stood by for a moment to make sure the Amazon drifted safely back to sleep before turning to leave. She only made it another few rows before a hand snapped to catch her wrist. Mandarin tongue cried out for her even as she registered the contact. An Amazonian woman wretched in her cot, her face contorting with pain.

"I'm not a... a..." Ranma tried to explain to the woman but found words completely lack once she had taken a good look at the warrior. Teal hair that was once intricately braided was a blood matted frazzle now. Her Chinese silks had been ripped open at the abdomen to suture a long ten centimeter wound, while her arm...

...Her arm was gone.

Ranma's eyes widened as the woman clutched at the bandaged, bloodstained stump. The Amazonian warrior focused on her again with more intelligible Chinese. Ranma shook her head without understanding, but allowed the woman to pull her down next to her. More frantic Chinese hit her ear and this time the martial artist nodded.

"I... I don't understand a word your sayin'," Ranma replied as she knelt down next to the woman. She forced a smile regardless and took her only remaining hand into hers. "But I'll do the best I can."

Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts did the best she could for the next four hours. Three people died as she looked on. One bled out as the healers worked to save an Amazon from the massive sucking chest wound in her torso. Another simply had too much wrong in too many places. The last was a PLA soldier who had simply stopped breathing even while they were trying to converse. In the end, it was all she could do to force her own lifeless body back to the hut she had been assigned and simply drop into bed. Then the dam finally broke.

Real men didn't cry.

For once, Ranma was glad she wasn't one.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** More inbound.


	7. Chapter 7

**Warrior Class  
**By _Ozzallos_

**VII.**

_Bump-be-dump-be-bump-beb-bump..._

**T**he unnatural rhythm intruded on Ranma Saotome's foggy subconscious as he slumbered, wallowing in the unconscious black of his minds eye. It was a supremely peaceful place to just float. No wars. No death. No _nothing._ But the rhythm continued, sending waves across the tranquility that his intellect floated within. Strands of thought began to coalesce with each jarring movement, like ripples intercepting across a pond, rebounding to create more awareness within the pigtailed teens lethargic brain.

_Babump-bump-beh-bump-badabump..._

A dim glow began to infuse itself through the inky darkness, pulsing in time with the unnatural beat. Barely coherent thoughts became annoyed by jostling, as the act itself pulled the martial artist closer and closer to the the waking world. The light became steady illumination, still pulsing with each tremor that inflicted itself upon him. Each bump became more pronounced , spurring the unconscious to consciousness with each passing second. The world seemed to strobe with white pulses in time.

_Bump-ba-bump-badeh-bump..._

Ranma's eyes fluttered open, blinking as full daylight assaulted his retinas even as his head continued to bounce and roll. The harsh movement was registered as his sluggish thought process quickly picked up speed while sorting the details. The teen's eyes blinked open in alarm. He wasn't in bed. He was outside. Trees and dirt all around. He was female. _She_ was being carried by somebody- over somebody's shoulder and draped down their back like a sack of rice as evidence by her skewed view of the world. Adrenaline flowed. Ranma's knee flexed like a piston and smashed into his assailant's chest like a gunshot.

"_OOOF!"_

The grunt was immediately recognizable as her attacker's grip slackened with the impact, allowing her to roll off the man's shoulder and across the ground in a controlled tumble that ended in a kneeling attack position. From it, the redhead watched as her kidnapper recovered. White gi? _Check. _Glasses? _Check. _Bald and Stocky? Check and _double_ check. Ranma Saotome only had one question for her assailant.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, old man?!"

Genma Saotome coughed, but recovered from his own hunched over position while rubbing the sore spot on his chest courtesy of her kick. Ranma's father straighten up, adjusting his glasses. He favored his offspring with a dire look. "Saving your hide, boy. Now get moving. Stay in one place too long and-"

"Like hell I will!" The teen snarled, likewise rising to her full height. "Do I look like I need saving?!"

"Yes!" The Saotome patriarch bit back, jabbing a thumb at the rainforest wilderness around them. "This isn't our fight, Son! They're going to seal off the borders boy, nothing in or out."

That stopped Ranma short. "They?"

"The rest of the world!" Genma gestured around them emphatically as he filled his son-turned-daughter in on current events. "They're drawing one huge demilitarized zone around China to keep these green skinned aliens contained... by any means necessary. They're talking nuclear weapons, boy."

Ranma's thoughts boggled at the development even as she kept a wary eye on his father. News of the outside world was getting harder and harder to come by and even current events could be delayed by a week as more and more of China's infrastructure was torn apart by the invasion. Nukes weren't exactly news after Beijing, but nukes from other countries were. They were being cut off and that alone had dire implications. Even so, one thought dominated the pigtailed boy's thought process inspite of the news.

"Akane?"

_Now_ he could talk some sense into the boy. Genma smiled slightly as the ultimate fulcrum to the boy's cooperation presented itself. "Safe. I managed to get her out before the talk of nukes made all of the normal transportation dry up, but if we're going to join her we need to be going _now_."

Ranma nodded. That was enough. She was safe, or at least safer. Indecision warred within Ranma's brain for the briefest of moments in what was barely a contest. She liked the tomboy but... But she had obligations. Debts to repay. Blood on her hands. Backing out was simply no longer a consideration. Her next words were spoken with measured regret. "I... Give her my best then. Mom too. I got loose ends to tie up."

"What part of nuclear weapon don't you understand, boy?!" Genma retorted angrily. "We're martial artists, not the army!"

"Then better get to swimmin'," The redhead replied flippantly, all but dismissing him as she turned back in the opposite direction.

"Boy, you're coming with me," A dangerous tone found its way into the father's voice. Ranma watched as the man tightened the knot securing his gi. "Sometimes a father must do what's best for his child... his _only_ child. Even if it hurts."

"Don't that sound familiar," Ranma rolled her eyes, and turned back to her father. '_He's serious,'_ she judged by the look in his eyes and utter stillness with which he stood. It, nor the almost room temperature sentiment with which he spoke his threat didn't change a thing however. She was here to stay... _Even if it hurt_. "Let's do this."

"Let's."

Genma Saotome promptly lurched forward with the word, immediately fading from sight as he did. Ranma's roundhouse kick gathered nothing but an afterimage, but used the momentum to pirouette and block two strikes with the flat of her leather vambraces from the back. '_Going for the quick win,'_ Ranma broke her father's tactics down even as she faded into the Umi Sen Ken herself. She smiled grimly from her own cloak. '_Two can play at that game.'_

Dust kicked up along the uninhabited path as nearly invisible strikes were exchanged while the pair themselves only re-materialized to exchange blows before disappearing again. The phantom combatants traded kicks and punches for another minute until the earth near the path's edge suddenly erupted in an explosion of dust and debris. The redhead tumbled out of it in an uncontrolled roll, bouncing along the hard dirt path twice before stabilizing her slide.

The petite redhead shook the impact off and warily watched as her father stepped out of the cloud of dust, his left hand still smoldering with traces of red chi. He had done something with that technique... Her ki felt like it was slowly being sucked away. The Saotome patriarch continued to level a dire stare at his son as he filled in the blanks. "The Devil's Hand. Don't force me to show you the true horrors of the Sen Ken arts, boy."

"Can't be worse than what I've seen out here," There was no humor in the girl's face either as she met the challenge. Ranma stepped back up to the ready, flexing a fist. "Besides, you ain't the only one who's got a trick or two."

The advisement was Genma's only warning as Ranma charged in at an oblique angle, assaulting her father's left flank in a barely visible blur. The elder martial artist weathered the flurry of punches and kicks, but it wasn't the wasn't the ones slipping through that worried him. It was _how_ she was executing the attack that held his undivided attention. Genma smacked the girl's next punch aside and attempted to step inside her guard for a counter attack, only to find her once more sliding off to the side. Her entire offensive seemed to be layered flanking movements and he was barely forming a hypothesis as to why when one of the kicks she pulled turned into a punch. The father's guard snapped up to intercept the roundhouse aimed at his face when his face promptly _exploded_.

Supercooled vapor detonated from the point of impact along his shoulder and by proximity, his head. The overpressure of the frozen environment ruptured in a thunder that all but deafened her father while she pursued his tumbling body down range to set up another strike. This time Genma saw the faint trail of vapor as the girl's attack curved into him but could do little to stop the impact, having barely stabilized his own stance. Another crack at point blank range left the patriarch's ears ringing. His last second parry diverted the blast to a body blow but the pressure wave resonated through his torso, sucking the wind out of his lungs while sending him sprawling once more.

Even as he landed hard and rolled out, the new technique was being broken down and analyzed. Whereas his own Devils Hand required direct contact to deliver chi cancelling effect, his son's damaged by proximity. _'...But requires those weird flanking movements to power it up?'_ Genma theorized as the girl charging down on him curved around to set up for a third strike. She was too close and too fast to test the first theory, but he could test the second. The bald martial artist allowed his son to commit to the attack and profiled right, deflecting her open palmed strike into empty air at the very last moment. Cold chi passed his face but failed to detonate, confirming his theory as he desperately tried to extricate himself from the followup combination she pressed her offensive with. Genma screened his next attack with a feint, aiming a snap kick at the girl's head that forced her to block, then faded back to the relative safety of the Umi Sen Ken cloak.

_'Impact based,'_ Genma Saotome decided as Ranma recovered from his sudden disappearance. This time the girl was less willing to go after him under the cover of her own cloak, giving him time to think. _'The oblique attacks charge the cold chi and any impact destabilizes it... violently. Damn clever, boy.'_ The father smiled to himself. Even so, it seemed to have a relatively short effective window and if it didn't hit, dissolved almost immediately. Both attributes were easily countered in his eyes, but there was a third, more concerning byproduct of the technique. They were also _loud_. Any enemy within earshot was bound to investigate the noise. The devils hand would shorten the battle, but it wouldn't shorten it fast enough with her every attack unleashing what amounted to a gun report.

_'Going to have to end this quickly,'_ Genma nodded to himself and readied his trump card. While there was still hidden depths to the Sen Ken arts, time wasn't on his side. His son was simply too good to go down quietly and the Devil's Hand was going to be too slow for what was becoming a rush operation. The older martial artist simply dropped his cloak in direct sight of his son. He was shaking his head with regret even as Ranma tensed to renew hostilities. "Don't make me do this, boy."

"Could say the same thing, old man," The redhead returned coolly, flexing her fist.

"When you recover, just remember how you drove your father to this desperation," Genma warned and took a lead off stance that all but screamed he was going to rush his offspring. Both arms hung off to the sides while the hands seemed to claw at the very air around him. Ranma's father favored his son with a dire look. "Prepare yourself."

"Bring it." Ranma replied seriously, beckoning her father closer.

Genma did just that.

The balding martial artist charged forth in a blur, covering the fifteen meters of space in under two seconds, but stopped short even as Ranma committed to her counterattack. One moment there was her father charging at her in a full frontal assault. The next...

_"AAAAHHHHGHH!"_

The redhead screamed in terror as a cat suddenly filled her vision, flying at her face in the place of her father. Terrified fur smacked into her face and latched on as any semblance of Ranma's art dissolved in ailurophobia fueled panic. Genma Saotome watched as his child flailed about with a sigh until tripping over a rock at the path's edge. The girl flopped to the ground and the cat off of her, dashing to a tree directly above her person. Yellow eyes stared down at the trembling martial artist whose blue eyes stared back in abject terror.

"C-Ca-cat...cat...cat..." Ranma gibbered the word as Genma approached his all or nothing gambit cautiously, watching for signs of the Neko-Ken.

"Never let it be said your father doesn't care," Genma huffed as closed the final few meters, satisfied his son wouldn't lapse into a berserker state. The orange striped kitten mewed from its treetop branch, watching as father reached for son. "Now lets get-"

_**CRAaaCK!**_

What could only be described as chi lightning ripped across the earth in a blue blaze, nearly taking Genma's own fingers off as it raised the final meter separating the pair from one another. The martial artist hastily rolled away from the violently sundered earth and slid into a guarded crouch. A quick glance at his son found the redhead still quivering in terror as the kitten jumped down to burrowed into her red silk shirt for shelter from the blast. It was the figure floating down from the skies was his primary concern, however.

"I don't have time for this!" He growled as his attacker touched down lightly. The silks and armor appeared chinese in origin, but the slitted eyes and blue-white hair gave the teenage boy an almost otherworldly appearance. Gold scaled armor shifted as the newcomer took a quick glance at Ranma then faced off against his person.

"As you are her father, I will allow you to live," The musk prince stated with calm arrogance as he closed on Genma. The balding man stood warily by as he continued solemnly. "Your punishment, however, shall be quite severe nonetheless."

"Not as severe as what you're about to receive if you don't step aside," Genma warned darkly, pushing his glasses up his nose for a better view of his opponent. What he knew of him was from Ranma own encounters. _'Herb, Prince of the Musk. Human-Dragon hybrid. Jusenkyo cursed. Chi mastery.'_ The older martial artist quickly revisited his son's own recount of the locking ladle incident over a year ago.

"At least we agree on the necessity of a violent outcome," Herb nodded and began to feed his power into a blue aura that flickered with impatient power. The Musk prince pointed a knife edged hand at the Saotome patriarch. "Let us begin."

Genma Saotome was already moving by the time Herb's hand dropped, evading the annihilating edge of chi that tore past him. The earth to the right of the martial artist was violently eviscerated, but the martial artist was already responding with the sweep of his own arm. Instead of chi, a blade of pure vacuum represented Genma's response, forcing the dragon prince to dodge left in avoidance. The very air hissed its objections to being halved and quartered as the two combatants launched mass salvos of ethereal blades at one another until one found Genma squarely in the chest.

The man promptly exploded into a cloud of white vapor.

Herb's surprise lasted a fraction of a second, then a glowing lance of pure blue ki materialized in hand. He swept it right and caught the after image of the Genma, slicing it in two as well. The Musk heir merely smiled, closing his slitted eyes. "Chi flows through me and I feel yours, Genma Saotome."

The sightless dragon prince lunged again, cutting apart another after image. This time he leapt back and pointed a hand to the ground, projecting a sphere of chi downward. It hit the dusty path upon which they fought and immediately rebounded to rise nearly two meters before catching an invisible martial artist in the gut. Genma took the impact completely unguarded, knocking him out of cloak for the waiting prince to attack ruthlessly. A flurry of punches that resembled an overpowered Chestnut Fist technique probed his guard while the martial artist fought to maintain his footing. One out of every ten strikes got through however, and they _hurt_.

Block.

Parry.

_Withdrawal._

The martial arts master slid across the path as he used the blows to gain the momentum necessary to extricate himself from the setup. Genma Saotome stabilized himself even as Herb tore behind him in flight. Slitted eyes flashed their anger as another chi lance was conjured in hand.

"Time to end this," The Saotome growled and adopted a swan-like stance. _"Shun Goku Satsu!"_

The Dragon Prince watched in morbid fascination as the older man darkened like a shadow, gliding through the tempest of his attacks. The lance was bypassed. His combinations failed to connect. Genma Saotome passed through the onslaught untouched and delivered the pain. Sledge hammer blows fell with impunity as the bald man flowed like water around him. Had he not been fighting to avoid them, Herb would have appreciated the lethal grace with which the human now operated. That, and most of his other thoughts were obliterated by the demon fist smashing into his cheek. Into his ribcage. Down his spine. Another to his face. Body blows. Bones cracked in spite of his dragon heritage. The last right cross sent him spinning wildly down range and dug a trench across the path itself, barely aware of anything by the time he rolled to a stop.

Black splotches swam through Herb's vision as he struggled to even kneel, only to find Ranma's father already standing above him. The human's left hand was glowing a menacing red, ready to drop at the slightest provocation.

"I would stay down if I were you."

The Musk heir stared at the waiting fist, then glanced back over to the quivering redhead trying to separate herself from the cat that had sought refuge in her bosom. Herb's gaze hardened with a snarl as he returned it to the Saotome patriarch. "I will _not_."

"You were warned." Genma advised with no emotion in his voice and raised the hand. The dragon prince fought to stand. Genma Saotome cleaved the air in two.

"PANDA MAN _STOP!_"

The order rang out across the path and Genma's eyes widened. The voice was instantly recognized and carried with it the authority of God himself... or in this case, _her_self. When Herb looked back up, the hand chop was frozen, its chi extinguished. He studied his opponent for a moment before turning his gaze where Genma himself was staring. A lone, imminently recognizable woman stepped out of the clearing and onto the path, approaching them. Shampoo's purple hair flowed with the light breeze and she step up along side Ranma, kneeling down to pluck the kitten from her breasts before tossing it gently aside to shoo it off.

"Airen is okay?" The one-eyed Amazon squeezed the redhead's hand with gentle concern. It took Ranma a full minute and a half to process the fact that there was no longer a cat in her shirt and and thirty seconds to realize who her benefactor was.

"T-Thanks, Sh-hampoo," Ranma tried to will calm through her body while Shampoo herself merely smiled kindly. She gave the hand a final reassuring squeeze before returning to her full height. The Amazon adjusted her black eyepatch and turned her single remaining eye on Genma Saotome. The edge of hostility it held was immediately apparent.

"No more violence from stupid Panda father," She ordered and Herb watched as the tension seemed to drain out of Genma's frame. Herb pushed his aching body upright with the Amazon's approach, favoring her with a deferential nod as she did so. Shampoo returned it respectfully, but her full attention was on Genma. "This one still have control, yes?"

"Yes, mistress," The old man nodded as if her dominion over him were merely a fact of life. Shampoo smiled, but it was hardly a pleasant one.

"Shampoo thought so," She likewise confirmed as the dragonkin stepped over to help Ranma up. She returned her attention to Genma. "What this one do with silly male?"

"Keep his ass out of my business!" The redhead rounded on her placid father sharply, nearly losing her already unsteady balance with the outburst. Herb's helping hand turned into a supporting brace that prevented her from falling back on her butt. She turned a grateful expression back to the musk prince. "Heh, thanks. Old man did something to my ki."

Herb merely nodded and stared. Ranma stared back from his supportive embrace. The moment stretched on uncomfortably until Ranma's cheeks pinkened, breaking their mutual gaze first. She hastily sought to stand under her power, extracting herself from his arm. "Ah, I got this."

The Musk prince withdrew while Shampoo cocked her head at the oddity, filing it away for later. For now, there were more important things to worry about and she turned to Genma to address them. "What panda-man do to Airen's ki?"

"The Devil's hand technique," Genma admitted freely as the trio gathered around him. "It destabilizes the vicitim's chakra by overloading the life gate with a focused chi strike. The imbalance of rei and ki temporarily destroys their harmonious conversion into usable chi."

"And what is the significance behind the name?" Herb wondered aloud. Genma glared at the musk prince but remained silent until Shampoo prompted him for an answer.

"Too-annoying Panda answer all questions."

"It is possible to permanently destroy a person's ability to produce stable chi by sufficiently damaging the life gate." Genma elaborated with the order to tell all.

"Son of a..." Ranma muttered under his breath, suddenly realizing why his father had chosen to seal the Sen Ken arts. Burying an art simply because it was a destructive and immoral had always seemed like a thin excuse, but this... _This_ was on par with the Weakness Moxibustion and sealing it away suddenly made a whole lot more sense. Ranma's next question dropped thoughtlessly from her mouth. "And who else did ya use this technique on anyway?!"

"Soun Tendo." Her father answered without hesitation.

"Soun..." Ranma mouthed the name before even realizing who it was for the first fraction of a second. The redhead's eyes widened. She stared at the parental figure, who studiously avoided eye contact. She could have sworn his eyes were beginning to become glassy with moisture. Even Shampoo stared, well aware of the implications now while Herb wondered at the varied reactions without a point of reference.

"Explain a lot, Shampoo think," The one-eyed Amazon murmured with amazement then turned to her redheaded counterpart, where a mixture of emotions were playing out across her face. The Amazon watched the Ranma's mouth open as if to press the issue but mentally unable to clear the mental log jam she was experiencing. It took a full minute for her mouth to snap closed, having finally sorted it all out for herself.

"I... I don't even want to know," Ranma sighed, shaking her head with weary resignation as she watched her father. "Just go, Pops. Take care of Mom, Akane and the rest, but... But I got unfinished business here. Let 'em know i'll be back when I can."

"Boy, I won't leave without-!"

"Lazy Panda follow order," Shampoo rebuked sternly. Genma stiffened, but the twitch on his cheek represented the only significant resistance he could mount as he spoke a again.

"Yes, Mistress." He replied sullenly and began to walk.

"Dammit, I almost feel sorry for him," Ranma muttered as her father trudged down the path, defeated mentally if not physically.

"I do not," The dragon prince frowned, glancing from one martial artist to the other. "Your father is too formidable of a nuisance to be left to his own devices."

Ranma arched a thin red eyebrow at the remark while Shampoo happily supplied the subtext. "Herb say too-too good fighter for him."

"I did _not_." Herb rumbled irritably.

Ranma began to smile for the first time since being kidnapped, directing a smirk at at the Musk Prince. "That's what I heard too."

"You are mistaken." The slitted draconian eyes settled upon Ranma with a decidedly unamused expression.

"Aiyah, silly Musk no admit defeat," Shampoo teased, but once again found an uncomfortable staring contest had settled between the redhead and the dragon. This time Ranma maintained her superior smirk for the duration and Herb was the first to blink, turning away with a seemingly contemptuous sniff.

"We should go."

Ranma watched him turn back down their path from which they originated, silently departing. She glanced back at Shampoo with a curious look, but the lavender haired girl could only shrug her own befuddlement over the odd behavior. Ranma dismissed the quirk and instead turned one last time to sight her father walking in the opposite direction, only to find the way clear out to the nearest bend in the road. The slightest sigh of regret escaped her lips before she turned to follow her friends.

It was time to get back to work.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** One more. Larger section so it may take some time. Back to the Orks!

**Shampoo;** _Since events diverged before Ranma returned to Japan, Shampoo never had the opportunity to release her control over Genma via the Phoenix Imprinting Eggs. As such, I assumed she has full control over him in the here and now. As a side note, I know of at least two instance including this one where Shampoo could have wreaked absolute havoc in the fiancee wars using mind control (not to be confused with the 411 arc)._


	8. Chapter 8

**Warrior Class**  
By _Ozzallos_

**VIII.**

**S**moke and ruin.

Both elements dominated the skyline of the Bayankala mountain range deep within the interior of China's Qinghai province, invariably drawing the troupe's attention as they hiked along the ridgeline in loose formation some forty kilometers downrange. One mountain in particular smoldered through the humidity that clung to the landscape like a silky patchwork, bleeding black tendrils of smoke into the sky from multiple fissures like a wounded animal.

"And now we know what happened to the Phoenix," One of the squad's Amazon contingent commented head as they negotiated the ridgeline's rocky terrain while taking care not to silhouette themselves against the hazy blue sky, lest they draw attention to their transit through what was effectively now enemy territory.

Ranma Saotome took another glance at the sundered fortress that he himself had once been a guest of, likewise marveling at the devastation wrought upon it. This time he couldn't help but to add his own interpretation of current events in halting mandarin.

"They got the shit kicked out of them."

"Badly," A female voice that wasn't Amazonian agreed. The black haired boy turned to sight the speaker. She was cloaked from head to toe in dragon scale armor, staring out into the distance and the mountain beyond. Mint hovered protectively off her left flank until the neo-dragon princess decided to rejoin their foot march.

It was bitter par for the course by Ranma's estimation. The Jusenkyo Alliance was barely holding their own and only because they held the Bayankala mountain range. It was hard terrain that the inhabitants knew better than any invader could ever hope to. Straying outside that natural defense was asking for beatdown as the martial artist had observed time and again. The green skinned aliens had the tech, but more importantly they had the numbers and were damn resilient. Any of the region's martial artist could take one of the green monsters in single combat, but it took a real badass to stand against the lopsided odds they usually faced.

He was one of those. Herb was another. Cologne and a few of the elders. A handful of warriors in the ranks of the Amazon and Musk. But the Phoenix? They were gone. As if the odds weren't stacked enough against them, the Phoenix had pulled back to their mountain without warning…

…And now they knew why.

As if bidden by his thoughts, Herb's slitted eyes caught sight of Ranma's lingering study. Staring wasn't necessarily something the martial artist usual engaged in, but these awkward, ill-defined moments were becoming more frequent and damned it if Ranma could sort out exactly _why_. He would find Herb staring at him. Or her. Uncertainty was certainly a component in her gaze, but there was something else. Something—

"Musk prince should stop flirting with my husband," Shampoo commented with disdain as she joined the pair, prompting Ranma to choke while Herb's own eyes widened in shock. The shock was short lived, replaced by irritation moments later.

"Forget not your station, Amazon. You address royalty." The perturbed dragon girl shot back, only to have the lavender haired warrior fall in step next to her with a conspiratorial smile.

"Maybe make little dragon girl be concubine?" Shampoo suggested, winking her single eye. Herb's cheek twitched with the suggestion, but that didn't diminish the girl's haughty smile in any way. "Is good idea, no?"

Ranma ate dirt once again.

This time Herb actually stopped, stepping directly into Shampoo's path with a dire look. The standoff seemed like it was about to result in actual physical violence until the slightest smile crooked along the edge of the Musk's lips. "If anyone is to be a concubine, it would be _you_."

"Would you two stop kidding about that?!" Ranma hissed frantically, no longer able to ignore the knowing looks and smiles of their passing squad members. A familiar voice fortunately broke the impending death by embarrassment and Ranma all too eagerly diverted his attention to it

"_FORM UP!" _

The order came from the front of the line and the squad began to gather around an orange, flame-haired Amazon female as she watched their progress around her. Toi'let, Ranma mentally identified the woman who continued to rattle off orders to another familiar Amazon beside her. Yun-Yun furiously transcribed the woman's orders into a scroll even as the rest of the squad assembled around them. The martial artist waited expectantly with everybody else until they had finished and Toi'let's attention had turned upon them.

"I think it is safe to say that we now know what happened to the Phoenix," Their commander explained in mandarin, forcing Ranma to concentrate hard on the mental translation. "As such we will set up our base camp here until we can probe for details. Squad leaders, set up for reconnaissance. Prince Herb, your musk will secure our site here. Yun-Yun will be your liaison."

Herb simply inclined her head respectfully as the woman continued to deploy their forces. "Soap, roving patrols. Keep them off the ridge and out of sight. Slayer-"

Ranma's attention focused as his Amazonian namesake was mentioned amongst the Chinese dialogue and he stepped forward. The Amazon warrior noted his presence with the barest of nods. "Your knowledge of the mountain's interior layout is required. In and out, no contact. Just find out what's left of the inside and get back before nightfall, clear?"

"Think I can manage," Ranma replied in the best mandarin he could manage, acknowledging the chief reason he had been attached to the reconnaissance force to begin with.

"Then get to it, cheeky male," Toilet deadpanned, dismissing his presence entirely to continue issuing orders. "Conditioner, Shampoo and Sponge will deploy along our left flank…"

The martial artist's attention turned once more to the wounded mountain, wondering if there was even anything left to scout… '_Aside from the ass-ton of green skinned aliens between here and there,'_ Ranma groused. Technically Shampoo had also been there, done that, but then she wasn't quite his level. '_Yet,'_ the pigtailed boy hedged even as one of the squad's attached PLA handed him an earbud headset and radio. If war truly was a crucible, it was forging the Amazon's already formidable skills into a work of art that even he could respect.

"Good luck, Sir," The People's Army sergeant commented as he fitted the last of the pigtailed teen's gear. Combat technology hadn't been part of Ranma's upbringing. He had been raised as the quintessential martial artist, but in the here and now it was more than a necessary evil. It saved lives, and that was more than enough reason in Ranma's eyes to learn what was what. Guns and body armor however were still rebuffed. His art could produce more damage than most man portable firearms, and Ork weapons had reduced the effectiveness of humanities body armor to that of toilet paper.

He offered his thanks to the soldier, adjusting the earpiece for comfort as he turned back toward the mountain. He mentally laid down his path of travel then turned back one last time. Herb was organizing his Musk. Yun-Yun followed, relaying his orders through the ranks. Shampoo, Conditioner and Sponge were planning their own reconnaissance foray.

Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts silently wished them well, then stepped out into the Chinese amazon wilderness.

* * *

**A**n amalgam of steel and spikes rumbled down the path, causing the ground to tremble with its passing. Tank treads clawed at the earth while a multi-barreled turret slowly rotated left to right, scanning for hapless targets... Targets such as a high powered martial artists seeking to gain covert entry into the very mountain they had laid siege to.

Ranma Saotome was neither a target nor hapless.

The pigtailed boy pressed into the large, gnarled tree trunk to conceal himself as the armored vehicle rumbled by. No less than eight of the green Orks hung off the sides, utilizing the weapons platform as mass transportation while another manned the turret hatch, swinging a smaller caliber weapon back and forth as if itching to shoot something. The tank rolled down the path and out of sight at the next curve while Ranma himself waited several more seconds before changing the path, darting across in a blur. He found another thicket of brush to set down in as the soft patter of rain began to bounce off the broad leaves around him. A quick glance at the sky told him the shower was part of the mountain's local weather would probably only last long enough to trigger the curse.

'_Figures,'_ Ranma grumped, but failed to seek more durable cover. Instead, he listened. More guttural yelling was heard and the martial artist mentally revised his path to circumvent the unnatural din. Several minutes of hiking and a brief downpour later, the mountain dominated the redhead's view of the horizon. Its fate was clearly evident. Large holes had been blow into the sides, breaching its natural defenses outright. Black smoke and geothermal steam drifted from those scars, telling of the battle fought within and without. After another fifteen minute trek, the rainforest began to thin in favor of rocky terrain and it was there Ranma keyed his radio's earpiece.

"Black Company, Saotome," She spoke into the stubby mic all but riding her cheek and waited.

"Black Company actual, Go."

Toilet's voice was recognized and Ranma keyed the radio again as she peeked out from her position. "I'm at the base of the mountain. Green Skins all over the place. Looks like they used some big ass gun to punch their way in."

Ranma released the key and waited for a response. It cracked back less than a moment later. "Resistance?"

"Not anymore," Ranma reported as she scrutinized the slope she now faced. "Orks got the run of the place inside and out. Lots of armor and plenty of green shitheads camping at the base of the mountain. "

The line remained silent for nearly thirty seconds before coming back to life in the pigtailed girl's ear. "So noted. Proceed with your infiltration, Slayer. Determine the viability of interior, report and extract."

"Want any souvenirs while I'm in there?"

"Cheeky male," The humorous note in Toilet's voice was barely discernible over the line's poor audio. "Black Company clear."

The channel clicked and Ranma was alone once more. The ragged holes the orks blasted into the mountain side were now the most obvious points of entry and likewise the most heavily trafficked by the greenskins themselves. '_Or we can try the cliff side again,'_ Ranma considered mentally, weighing both options. The natural cliff side fissures were undoubtedly less well guarded but they were much higher. At some point she was going to have to risk exposing herself to the entire Ork encampment just by climbing up.

'_Yeah, like going through the front door is gonna be any better,'_ The martial artist thought sarcastically, looking at the well-guarded breaches. Those were easily reached, but with the ork traffic… '_Let's keep this simple,'_ She determined, eyeing the closest forced entry into the mountain side. '_Get close, ghost in under the Umi Sen Ken and do some exploring.'_

And that's exactly what Ranma did. The martial artist spent the next hour getting into position, ensuring she would maintain the cloak for as little time as possible when it came time for the sprint in. A single ork nearly ruined the plan, stepping out from the very rock outcropping Ranma was about to occupy. The green wall of muscle was yawning from his recent slumber and had barely comprehended there was even a threat when a silent blade of pure vacuum decapitated him outright. Its head tumbled into the rocks and the martial artist pulled the green skinned Ork's body down by his armor, lodging the corpse many times her size into a crevasse next to her.

The decapitated head continued to stare up at her in shock however, its lips gibbering as if trying to yell.

"Really?" She muttered aloud and kicked the head to join the corpse. She knew her opponents could survive ridiculous wounds, but this was the first time she had seen something survive a _beheading_. Ranma shook her head of the incident and cleared her mind.

No feeling.

No thoughts.

She was a blank slate.

She was _nothing._

The redhead faded from existence as if she were little more than a trick of the light and darted across the rocks, leaping from one outcropping to the next. She passed an unsuspecting Ork. Then another. She slipped between two, leaving little more than a slight breeze. Twenty three green skins were left unaware at her back and Ranma was through the breach in under thirty seconds, ducking into an empty corridor ravaged by battle before finally dropping the stealth technique. A silent sigh escaped her lips as she allowed her chi resume its normal flow through her body, freeing Ranma to commenced her primary mission.

Large caliber holes dotted the hallway she had taken up residence in, advertising that heavy fighting had indeed taken place. No bodies were present, but that wasn't exactly a reassuring sign either. Ranma continued her advance, ducking into an adjacent room as a new green skin patrol passed. Their grunting conversation faded and the redhead renewed her progress until she came to a shattered balcony. The masonry was destroyed by some form of high temperature explosion that could have been either Phoenix or alien in origin. The cavernous interior of Phoenix Mountain was visible from Ranma's new vantage point and it _all_ looked like it had taken damage of some form or another. From the outside, the orkish artillery had blown holes through rock and stone. From the inside, sunlight poured through them like misshapen windows, while anemic waterfalls cascaded from the various crevices.

Ranma glanced up. Ragged sunbeams crisscrossed the cavernous space and beyond it, the throne room suspended several hundred meters overhead by natural stone supports. The bridge leading to and from the mountain's interior was still intact, but two of the original five natural stone supports had apparently been apparently been casualties of war. They were shattered, forcing the remaining three to bear the load of the throne room. Even the those three look like they had taken damage, and if any one of them failed…

The redhead peered down into the cavern where a dull orange glow emanated. _That_ was new. Lava burbled contently another hundred meters below, sending wisps of humid vapor coiling upward as it mixed with the remains of Jusendo's spring waters.

'_Battle must have shifted the earth again,' _Ranma decided as she studied the mountain's interior for potential routes upward. The inlet from Jusendo was apparently still in tact, but the introduction of a lava vent within the mountain itself was a bad sign. The greenery clinging to the interior of the mountain also came as a minor surprise. Entire tracts of once barren stone were covered in a silky green moss that the redhead was certain hadn't existed before.

'_But what the hell is it?'_ Ranma wondered, poking a nearby patch of the stuff with her index finger. It seemed to writhe gently with her touch, while translucent liquid filled bulbs pulsated. The most disturbing aspect of the growth was that it all just happened to be the same shade of green as the aliens that had taken up residence. '_Sure as hell ain't natural. Seeds?'_

The martial artist studied the flora for another moment before shrugging. She retrieved a small satchel looped to her belt and began to strip the wall of the seeds, flicking them into the pouch one by one. Once sufficient heft had been achieved, Ranma re-tied the bag to her belt and returned to the main task at hand. The few stairways she remembered would undoubtedly be used by the Orks patrolling the mountain, prompting her to glance up to the nearest rocky outcropping_. _

'_Just like old times, then.'_

It was an easy leap for a world class martial artist, but it was only the first of many that took nearly an hour. If she had been allowed to simply leap from rock to rock with impunity, she could have made the ascent in under a half hour easily, but something about the bubbling cauldron drew the orks to admire it. They marveled at it and in turn, forced Ranma to take harder routes or simply wait until a particular group of greenskins had their fill of sightseeing.

Watching them toss eggs into the bubbling lava was the bigger surprise. At first, the sight baffled Ranma until her brain caught up with the event and put two and two together. She swore to herself upon realizing what exactly she was witnessing and continued her climb, filing the fact away for future dissemination. Fifty two minutes later, Ranma clung to the side of one of the support bridges, waiting for a patrol of three monsters to pass before climbing up to Saffron's very throne level.

Another sprint carried her to the main entrance, also pockmarked by large caliber holes. The heavy stone doors had been blown off their hinges and what sounded like a party in progress could be heard. The Saotome ducked inside, carefully skirting through the corridors until finding the throne room itself. Orks were pillaging the room, yelling and fighting over their finds while a particularly large and well armored Ork preceded over their activities. He sat on the throne, his face heavily scarred by what looked to be a pattern of claw marks. His treasures were arrayed around him, most of it gold and Phoenix weaponry. Ranma's attention narrowed upon sighting two particular weapons.

'_The Kinjaka and Gekkaja,'_ Ranma identified the pair of staves leaning haphazardly against the throne itself as the ork boss watched the antics of his minions. Ranma cursed her mission objectives, resigning herself to withdraw to one of the empty antechambers where she keyed the mic.

"Black Company, Saotome." Static answered her whisper, forcing a second attempt. "Black Company, this is Ranma."

Nothing. Ranma glanced around, noting the elaborate stonework around her that was in all likelihood blocking any possibility of a signal_. 'If it ain't one thing it's another,'_ The redhead grumbled and exited the chamber, then ducked behind one of the hallway pillars as another armed patrol passed. She exited the throne room entirely and crossed the bridge support on her way to the outer wall. She sighted one of the smaller natural crevasses to the outside world and hopped up several meters, reaching it with ease. Cool wind rewarded her effort as she climbed through it, blinking at the direct sunlight.

Ranma keyed the mic once more, adjusting her earpiece for a better fit. "Black Company, Saotome."

This time the radio exploded with sound.

"_I said fall back to the trenches!"_ Ranma's eyes widened with Toilet's pitched order clearly not meant for her. An explosion cracked across the line's audio, followed by another. There was a pause as the line went dead, then came back to life. "Slayer, go!"

"Phoenix Mountains a write off," Ranma began with renewed haste given the activity she was hearing in the background. "Everybody got killed back into eggs and are getting tossed into the lava pit here. Not even sure if they're dead or alive at this point."

"_Don't let that armor catch you out in the open!"_ Another voice called out before Toilet cut back in.

"Black Company actual copies all," The squad's leader confirmed and began to relay her next orders to the redhead. "Stay on position and call out troop movements from your vantage-"

Ranma was just about to voice her vehement objection to staying put when the woman's voice cut out. Seconds later, the dull front of thunder echoed across her position. The martial artists head snapped around, pinpointing the direction from which it came. An explosion flashed and died away while tracer fire flickered back and forth like distant fireflies to the west. The Saotome stared, entranced by the distant conflict before finally breaking back to the real world. She keyed her radio once more.

"Black Company, come in!" She hissed, trying not to attract attention to her own position as well. "Dammit people, you had better answer me!"

"_-Lose that flank and we're all dead!"_

"_-Too many of them!"_

The radio cut out again and Ranma returned to watching the firefight some forty kilometers away. Somebody was still fighting. She could see that easily enough, but they were apparently ass deep in it and even at full sprint, she knew there was no way to get to them in enough time to matter.

"Son of a _bitch!_" The girl growled with impotent anger. It was happening _again _and this time it was worse- She could only _watch_ as her friends and allies were slaughtered on the field of battle. Her left hand dug at the stone she now perched atop, unconsciously crushing it to dust in equal part frustration and impotent fury. If she pushed it she could be there inside a half an hour...

'_...And just in time to watch them finish everybody off,'_ she reasoned bitterly and discarded the idea outright. Even causing a ruckus here on the mountain itself wouldn't do any good. Any distraction short of bringing it down on their alien heads wasn't likely to...

...Likely to...

Ranma's hand abruptly stopped crushing rock and her thought process crystallized, fixating on that one singular idea. Neurons flashed back and forth as the concept was debated within the redhead's brain. But she would need help, help she wouldn't have this time around. Her mind's eye flashed back to the throne room and a grim smile began to form along her lips. She was on her own for this one, but the tools had already been provided for her use.

She had already brought down one mountain.

Now it was time to take down another.

Back inside the throne room, the conflict forty kilometers away was beneath the Ork boss that had presided over the siege and capture of Phoenix Mountain. While it wouldn't make him the leader of a WHAAAAG! overnight, it was a significant step forward in prestige. The scarred greenskin produced a toothy grin with the thought as his Boyz fought over the loot they had pillaged... And the eggs. Vorp was a devout fan of killing things as most Orks were. He had stabbed things, shot things, sliced things in half, 'sploded things, smashed things and clobbered things throughout his entire life. This was the first time he had killed something into an _egg_, however. They would kill them by the hundreds and the the winged hummies would spontaneously combust in turn, leaving behind a small gold flecked egg.

It was endlessly entertaining, leading to the rise of a new sport: Egg chucking.

It was also supremely convenient that the mountain came furnished with it's own lava pit to enhance the fun that came with their new pastime, while the eggs themselves naturally became their own form of currency. The Boss grabbed one of the eggs from his pile and chucked it at one of the brawling Boyz.

The egg smacked the unaware ork upside the head with a meaty thunk. He bellowed in rage and grabbed the surprisingly durable egg to smack the nearest ally upside the head with the improvised bludgeon. Vorp bellowed his laughter at the case of mistaken identity and watched as the stricken Ork responded in kind, chucking his own egg back at the attacker. A relatively innocent bystander was caught in the crossfire, drawing another ork into the egg chucking fray. Less than two minutes later the former throne room of the Phoenix had become a free fire zone of eggs, melee and chaos that even the Ork boss couldn't avoid. He threw eggs and eggs were thrown in response.

None of them notice the petite, redheaded human simply materialize in their midst.

Ranma Saotome was already stepping through the first notes of the Dance of the Mad Death God by the time her cloak dropped; vacuum blade peeling off the knife edge of her hands as she pirouetted through the room. Six of the room's twenty one occupants were dead before they could even comprehend the threat and four more died before they could act. Three managed to ply their meaty green hands to their side arms, only to be torn apart by the lethal wind.

The Ork boss felt the closest thing to horror an Ork could experience as the smallest hummie he had ever seen tore through his Boyz as if she were a living chain sword. Vorp grabbed for the gnarled Big Shoota resting at the side of his new throne as another two Orks fell apart. Only six Boyz stood between him and the crazy redheaded hummie now. The seconds taken to pull the rifle up to his shoulder cost him another three Boyz. Purple blood splattered across the walls and floor in fine arcs as the girl danced past them. The final Ork of Vorp's entourage managed to get into melee range by sheer luck and swung at the hummie with a rusted, wicked looking choppa.

The Boss didn't even bother waiting for clear line of fire and pulled the trigger.

Concussive thunder pounded through the confined space of the throne room like a jackhammer, carrying with it hundreds of large caliber rounds. The remaining Ork didn't stand a chance as he jerked in time with the bullets, blossoming with ragged purple holes that tore the life from his body ...And he wasn't even the primary target. The redhead was, but she simply exploded in a puff of smoke as the first round tore through her Orkish meat shield and slammed home. A blue silk shirt tumbled away and by the time he registered the evasion, the gun ran dry.

"Missed me."

The statement came from his right, dangerously close in proximity. Vorp swung the firearm around, but not to shoot the girl. The huge two meter bayonet attached to the barrel was the only weapon necessary at this range and he sliced it hard right at the red smear occupying the edge of his vision with bellowing roar.

_CHaaNNG!_

The sound of steel meeting steel rang out and the next thing Vrop knew the blade, his Big Shoota and half of his armored green torso was encased in ice. The hummie had met his strike with his own loot; the staff adorned with a half-moon blade specifically. Her other hand bore its fraternal twin—the ring tipped staff. The Ork boss tried to pull away from the ice encased gun to renew his offensive, but his hands and arms were rooted to the gun.

Ranma used the time to slice his abdomen open with the Kinjakan.

She stepped back with the execution of the cut, watching as the green skin burst into flames from the origin of the slice. He was devoured by fire as if dipped in gasoline, then shattered outright upon meeting the temperature differential of the magical ice. The martial artist suppressed any remorse at the terrified death scream the Ork produced, her thoughts turning to the task at hand. It was time to bring the cold. Ranma spun the Gekkaja around in hand, then thrust the half-moon blade deep into the ground at her feet. Ice instantly consumed the stone at her feet, turning the purple blood soaked masonry into supercooled matter. She swung again to the right and more shards of ice grew from the throne room floor. _Again._ The throne itself was engulfed. _Again._ A nearby pillar sparkled like a giant crystal.

Ranma was about ready to plunge the artifact downward once more when an vengeful battle cry roared. A sharp crack followed but the redhead skillfully diverted her weapon to deflect the bullets trajectory. The round screamed in protest but buried itself into a wall as more orcs flooded into the room. The bloodbath already present seemed to cause them some hesitation, hesitation that the Anything Goes Heir took full advantage of. Ranma swept the room with the Kinjakan, snapping it's length to release the razor disk it held in check.

The ring reflected off a nearby wall, tearing a shallow gouge of sparks into it even as the redhead charged into the squad of ten. Firearms cracked in response but their owners were much too slow to keep up with the blurring human. The Gekkaja trailed behind her across the floor, crystallizing the stone as she swept in for her first strike, the staff coming up and around. A muzzle flashed close to her head, deafening her temporarily but little more. The half-moon of her weapon found the Ork's massive green chest, flash freezing him in place while the Kinjakan's disk cut into the squad's left flank. Two of the huge aliens instantly burst into flames on contact and Ranma spun around, capturing the disk with the staff and turning another ork into an icy pillar in one fluid motion.

_More._

Every movement, lethal or otherwise turned more and more of the throne room to crystal frost while reducing the Ork population by fire and ice. More Orks joined the fray, attracted to the sounds of frenzied battle. It mattered little to the martial artist, who in turn had stepped fully into the role of a killing machine. Silence and stealth no longer mattered to her goals and she unleashed the full power of her combined arts while spreading the ice. The hallways became a slaughterhouse of purple blood and frost while the bridge connecting throne room to the exterior of the mountain glowed orange from the ice refracted light of the molten core below. The three remaining stone spires supporting the central throne room glistened with ice as she killed and killed and _killed_.

_MORE._

Killing wasn't even the objective, but it became a natural extension of it as a new wave of Orks flowed onto the bridge to challenge her. Now she had the full attention of the forces surrounding the mountain and they came. The echoing staccato of gunfire crackled off the walls and an endless wall of green bodies forced the red head back up atop the throne room's domed roof where the sun shone down through the mountain's open caldera. They, in turn, were happy to oblige her last stand and even began to discard their own weapons to prove their strength against the lone hummie...

...All while completely ignoring the ice at their feet.

Ranma cut challenger number one hundred and thirty six down with the Gekkaja. The giant Ork's legs turned to ice with its caress and the monster toppled over, limbs shattering as it hit the roof's surface. The redhead angled the crescent down and shoved the artifacts lethal edge through the green skin's chest. The handicapped Ork's guttural screams silenced as the steel moon passed through its chest cavity and slammed home into the roof, finishing off the last section of her masterpiece of purple gore and ice.

The Kinjakan was next and she swung, snapping its ring into open air where it bisected her next challenger and set him ablaze. He just happened to be a convenient target of opportunity however, and the ring continued its flight unopposed, reflecting off the mountains interior stone and back _through_ the bridge of ice. The disk flash vaporized the magical ice on contact, completely severing it from the mountain itself. The razor ring snapped back onto the Kinjakan and Ranma hurled it into space once more. More Orks died as a result but again, they weren't the primary target. Another support was breached by the mystical artifact she wielded and this time, tremors rocked the throne room.

The free for all melee paused as the structure's westward side suddenly dropped ten degrees. Orks slid and fell into the lava by the scores. Ranma anchored herself, holding onto the Gekkaja with her left hand while giving her right one last heave. The razor disk streaked upward on last time, climbing up and out of the mountain crater to meet the blue sky...

* * *

**F**orty kilometers down range, a similar battle of desperation was taking place. The forces arrayed against Black Company were absolutely overwhelming. An unending tide of green skinned Orks. Heavy armor. Impossibly durable flying machines. Any other unit would have been slaughtered outright but the forces of the Jusenkyo Alliance were holding together... _Barely._

Even with it's commanding officer dead, a good portion of Black Company was alive and fighting due in no small part to the unusual makeup of their unit. They were almost all blooded veterans, hand picked for this ill-fated incursion deep into enemy territory. Some of those veterans were all but heavy weapons platforms themselves.

It was a fact that Herb, currently female prince of the Musk, demonstrated in the here and now by cutting one of the malformed Orkish tanks in half with her Hito Ryu-Zan Ha technique. Something combustible sparked within the parting wreckage, setting the remainder of the vehicle ablaze but not stopping the dragon girl from descending into it to dispatch the survivors by hand. Shampoo covered his movements as the berserk dragon kin tore through plate armor, maiming her own adversaries with pair of oversized, spinning maces that quite literally shaved the green flesh from any Ork they touched.

A gun rattled off in rapid fire and the Amazon's second mace caught the massive round aimed for her head, tearing it out of her hand. She rolled out and away as more bullets peppered the earth around her; stabilized and charged her attacker with a primal scream. The Ork attempting to track her with the Shoota failed, watching as the lavender haired girl twisted into melee range and _stabbed_ him. He swung with a massive fist and felt another biting stab. Three. _Four. _Another three round burst failed to connect and the girl slid between his legs, deploying more of the sharp implements. The frustrated alien simply couldn't keep up and by the time he could align the weapon to her last position, he could only watch as the hummie rolled into the safety of one of their nearby trenches.

The Ork snarled and was about to set off after her until he sniffed the air and noticed something burning. He looked down to one of the eight kunai lodged in his person and pulled it out, eyeing the attached piece of paper as it burned down. The dagger sticking out of his shoulders burned in the same-

_**BOOOOM!**_

The Amazon would have spared a smile if she had the time, but opted to pull an AK-47 from one of her fallen allies, checking the magazine. _Empty._ Shampoo released it and swapped it for a full mag, then commenced to stripping the body of the Peoples Army solider of three more magazines before stepping back out onto the field of battle.

To her right, a girl five years her junior called out battlefield orders to the companies remaining PRC while negotiating with her own Ork, dual wielding a pair of jian with the speed of the chestnut fist. The slashes weren't killing it and the green skin's big choppa made for formidable opposition. Sparks cascaded between the two combatants as metal shrieked against metal. The melee didn't stop Yun-Yun from issuing hasty orders over the unit channel- orders that were in all likelihood the only thing keeping Black Company alive apart from the sheer ferocity of its component members.

The junior Amazon was just about to retake the initiative when a purple blur flipped overhead, landed on the orc's shoulders and unleashed a magazine of 7.62mm armor piercing on full auto directly into the monster's cranium. The Ork danced in time with the chatter of Shampoo's AK until the weapon ran dry. The older Amazon simply let the spent magazine drop away then stepped off the dead Ork's shoulders at it slumped to the ground.

Like Shampoo, Yun-Yun only had the time for the barest nod of thanks before screaming further orders into the channel to mass their meager conventional fire on singular targets. Her finger has just began to rest on the transmit key when a forgotten voice cut in. The transmission was entrenched in heavy static, but the female voice was unmistakable.

"_No idea...receiving this... if you're alive out there..."_ Yun-Yun's eyes widened as the piecemeal message continued. She turned to the forgotten mountain and watched a sunlit star drift skyward. "_...better find some cover... cuz I'm droppin the hammer."_

That single glittering point of light seemed to hang in the air above Phoenix Mountain before falling back into the central cone. Thought caught up to sight and Yun-Yun mashed the transmit key in panic even as she dove for the nearby trenches herself.

"_GET TO COVER! EVERYBODY GET TO-!"_

Phoenix Mountain died by fire.

Violent steam plumes consumed it, devouring the mountain from the inside before its geology suffered catastrophic failure in the form of pyroclastic ruin. The entire western side of the mountain was converted to molten rock and lava, ripping the rest of the spire apart as it expanded like a hungry god of elemental fire. Anything at the mountain's base was instantly incinerated in the resulting fireball while a shockwave composed of pure pressure and heat tore away at the remains of the mountain. The lush rainforest flashed to burning tinder, as did anything for ten kilometers around its base.

What the immolation couldn't reach directly the resultant shockwave tore asunder, ripping away the landscape at supersonic speed. Within twenty kilometers, Orkish casualties were still one hundred percent as Phoenix Mountain lived up to its namesake. The shockwave was upon Black Company's position within ten seconds to rip the life out of anything that had chosen not to heed Yun-Yun's last order. The Orkish host besieging them was slaughtered outright, sustaining nearly ninety percent casualties in the first five seconds while the slightly more durable vehicles and weapons platforms were tossed about like toys.

...Weapons platforms like Herb.

The Musk warrior barely registered Yun-Yun's order through her blood lust and by the time she turned to the yellow annihilation on the horizon, the shock wave had reached across the intervening kilometers to pluck her from the ground and suck the very air from her lungs. Only her draconic heritage saved her from the incinerating winds that followed, but not the whiplash of high speed debris. She tumbled and fell, her innate grasp of ki rendered useless within the maelstrom.

Her last sensation was of tumbling sky, then pain, then black.

The dragon girl floated in the darkness as voices and visions coalesced around her unconscious mind. Memories of her- his -childhood. Memories of her father. Memories of Jusenkyo. The Curse. Memories of- A booming voice cut through the blackness, demanding to be heard.

"_So I'll return the favor and throw you out!" _The voice was intimately familiar to the heiress of the Musk dynasty and the vision of a black pigtailed boy rushing at his person flashed through her mind's landscape.

"_If you want your clothes back, you'll tell me where to find the open water kettle."_ Embarrassment glowed from within Herb as the vision shifted to the redheaded female she knew well. "_You know, I started sensing a while ago that there's something strange going on..."_

The redhead confronted him again, crouching low before him with fire in her eyes. "_Herb, I want to thank you for becoming a man again... I saw your Ryo Sei Hisho this time. Clearly!"_

The vision of the redhead began to fade, but Herb held on to it, struggling to find some anchor within the black. This time the girl returned with a grateful expression on her face.

"_Ah, thanks. Old man did something to my ki." _That smile. The memory began to liquify... spread throughout her minds eye. The princess watched in wonder as the face transformed into demure embarrassment. "_I'm not sayin' I don't like it... just... Not yet..."_

Herb puzzled at the last memory. Imagination? hallucination? In the moments it took her to analyze the vision, it was gone, replaced by Ranma's male aspect. His blue eyes were Powerful. Confident. _Caring_. The dragon princess boggled at the sight.

"_...Already talked to Shampoo. She's fine with it... Us..."_

Suddenly the vision was ripped away beyond reach as her lungs spasmed, forcing the Musk heiress back into the world of the living with a violent coughing fit seeking to dispel the phlegm and ash that had taken up residence in her airway. Another coughing fit ensured the girl she was alive, prompting her to push herself up off the ground... Slowly. _Everything_ hurt. A sizable tree branch slid off of her back as she sat up, scrubbing the mired ash out of her eyes, slowly taking in her surroundings...

...They were hell on earth. The lush rainforest ridge had been stripped bare, replacing greenery with smoldering soot. Smoke and sulphur dominated her line of sight, which only extended twenty five meters in any direction. Still, the orange glow through the smoke all but assured her that there were still active fires consuming anything flammable. The field of battle was silent, however. Herb rose to height on unsteady legs, noting that most of the armor plates that had protected her throughout the fight had been ripped away. The sounds of fire crackling and the groaning of wounded competed for her attention.

She walked toward the sounds, hoping to clear the nauseous cloud of sulfur and ash. Herb stumbled over a charred greenskin corpse, paying it little mind as smoke drifted across her path, thinning as she made slow progress. Around her the trenches they had dug were intact. Amazon, Musk and regular army alike lay dazed, but alive. Cries of pain still drifted through the air, but the Musk princess continued to walk, her vision finally zeroing in an diminutive female figure at the edge of the cloud. Herb stumbled over another Orkish corpse before finally reaching the upright woman... It took a moment for the Musk to realize that it was Yun Yun, upright and staring up into the heavens. Two jian were buried point first in the ash beside her and Herb moved to get her attention.

"Amazon," Herb's voice crackled, still dry from the toxic atmosphere she had endured. The girl didn't respond but she could now see the expression on her face. It was one of absolute wonder and revelation. The dragon girl turned to see what had caused such a reaction in the face of such devastation and looked skyward for the first time.

An involuntary gasp escaped her lips.

What had once been the grand spire of Phoenix Mountain had been replaced by an angry mushroom cloud of vapor, ash and fire. The bulmouse mass in the upper atmosphere had already hit its maximum altitude and flattened out some time ago, slowly drifting to the north along the wind. Lightning crackled at the base of the cloud as the component parts of ash and electricity interacted, causing the muddy red blob to flash with pulses of incandescent light.

Herb, cursed prince of the Musk could only stare. Her mouth opened but words failed in the face of the apocalyptic sight. A small crowd began to assemble behind the pair and after several long minutes, Herb finally found the question she had been seeking to voice. Logic alone had given her a clue as to what had transpired.. An eruption. A stone burner. _Something._ But the timing was overly coincidental. Whatever just happened had also managed to eliminate any and all opposition around the mountain, and there was only one person on site that could have instigated such a feat... But the scale was all but impossible. The Musk princess knew that even she couldn't pull off such a feat. She pulled in a breath to ask a question but one of the survivors beat her to it.

"What... _What the hell was that?"_

As if triggered by that very question, a high pitched whine permeated the air, deepening as it approached. Every eye turned to the sky, tracking a golden twinkle just as it dropped from the heavens with a screech, blasting into the earth not less than thirty meters from their position with a violent crack. Sparks blazed away as more ash was distributed across the area while inflicting an angry red scar upon the earth. Hot wind carried the smoke and dust aloft and the assemblage of eyes came to rest on the remains...

_...The Kinjakan._

The air around the artifact wavered as the weapon itself glowed red hot. A quarter of the weapon's length was buried in the molten earth while the razor ring leaned skywardward, smoldering like everything else around it. Yun-Yun finally turned back to answer the question directly. The dragon princess witnessed an intensely unholy light gleam within the thirteen year old's eyes, one that spoke of complete and utterly unwavering conviction.

"_That_ was the Battle Mistress."

* * *

**Author's notes-** Alright, that was the last prefabricated chapter I have. Might be a bit before i get around to this again since ch13 of Hell is a Martial Artist is all ahead full. Things are a bit rougher than usual because of the lack of editors, but special thanks to Materia Blade for services rendered. Weebee gets some love too, even though he hates the genre :D

**Phoenix Mountain;** I'm taking liberties as to the composition of the mountain as there is no direct evidence that it is a volcano of any sort per canon. There are, however, many caves and evidence of geothermal activity in the area. The inside is evidently hollow to a large degree given the architecture Rumiko placed inside the mountain itself.


End file.
